I-NRLF 


B   M   2M3   S7D 


THITI  NY  WORLD 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 


GIFT  OF 

M.  G.  DADANT 


HALF  HOUES 
BT    THE    TINY    WOKLD 


APHIDES. 


See  Page  187. 


HALF    HOURS 
IN  THE  TINY  WORLD 

of  Insect  Htfe 


WITH  NUMEROUS  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW  YORK: 
DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS. 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


CONTENTS. 


ABOUT  A   CATERPILLAR ,  • 

THE  SPIDER  AND  ITS  WEBS.  PABT  I-  ,  •  •  •  •  21 

„  PART  II W 

BEES  AND  BEEHIVES.  PART  L.  ..••••  4ft 

}>  ,  „  PART  II .  •  64 

„  „  PART  III.  .•••••  7» 

WASPS  AND  PAPER-MAKING.  PART  I.  .  •  •  •  .86 

PART  II •  *> 

„  „  „  PART  III 104 

8ILK  AND  SILKWORMS.  PART  !..••••'  H^ 

„  ,,  PART  II.  »••••'  127 

ABOUT  FLIES  PAKT  I.  .»•••••  143 

„  PART  II. l*52 

„  PART  III. I6* 

ANTS  AND  ANT-HILLS.  PART  !..•••••  177 

„  „  PART  II.  .•••••  187 

„  „  PART  III •  •  I98 


viii  CONTENTS. 

FASH 

ANTS    AND    THEIR    ORGANIZATION    .  ....  209 

UFf    IN    A    DROP   OP   WATER. 

CHAP,   i.  "PLANT-ANIMALS"  AND  ''FIRST-LIFE"          ,  221 

CHAP.  II.    ''WHEELS,"    "  WATER-BEARS,"    AND    "  RODS  "  233 

CORAL   AND    CORAL    BUILDERS.     PART       1 245 

„  ,,  PART     II 258 

„  „  „  PART  III.          .  .  .  270 

NATURE    AND    HER    TOOLS  .  .  .       •     .  .  281 

WATURE    AND    WHAT    IS    SMALL          ......  295 

DBE   OF   THE    BYEB  ,  809 


ILLUSTKATIONS. 


APHIDES Frontispiece. 

CATBRPILLAR,  CHRYSALIS,  AND  BUTTERFLY       .        .  4 

LARVA  OF  DICRANUKA          .                7 

THE  LOOPER  CATERPILLAR 9 

THE  COMMON  CATERPILLAR         .      '  .         .         .  12 

CHRYSALIDES 13 

A  COMMUNITY  OF  CATERPILLARS 15 

BUTTERFLIES •         .         .17 

THE  COMMON  SPIDER  AND  ITS  WEB  .        .  .23 

SPINNERETS,  GREATLY  MAGNIFIED 26 

SPIDER'S  CLAW,  MAGNIFIED          ...                        .  27 

THE  GARDEN  SPIDER    .                          30 

SPIDER  ATTACKING  NEST  OF  HUMMING  BIRDS  ...  37 

THE  MASON  SPIDER  AND  ITS  NEST 41 

"  WHERE  THE  BEE   SUCKS  ' 51 

CELLS     .                 ,        ...  54 

HONEYCOMB  54 


X  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGI 

SECTION  SHOWING  CELLS  or  HONEYCOMB  .  57 

THE  Swiss  HIVE 58 

STING  AND  POISON-BAG  OF  WOKKBR-BEK  .  .  GC 

THE  WORKER  AT  WORK  ....  61 

TONGUE  OP  WORKER-BEE 62 

DRONE,  QUEEN,  AND  WORKER 65 

STRAW  AND  GLASS  HIVE    ......  67 

WOODEN  HIVE  ....  ....  68 

SWARM  OP  BEES 73 

FESTOON  OF  WAX- WORKERS  .  .  .  •  76 

COMMENCEMENT  OF  COMB  .......  77 

AN  EGG  MAGNIFIED .  .  77 

WASP  AND  FRUIT 86 

WASPS'  PAPER,  GROUND  AND  TREE-NESTS  ...  99 

THE  INSIDE  OF  A  WASPS'  NEST 110 

THE  SILKWORM'S  DEVELOPMENT  FROM  THE  EGG  Tf  ITS 

FULL  GROWTH 121 

LARVA,  PUPA,  COCOON,  AND  MOTH  OP  THE  COMMON  SILK^S  »BM  123 

GATHERING  SILKWORMS'  FOOD  IN  THE  LEBANON  .  .  129 

INTERIOR  OF  SILKWORM  REARER'S  COTTAGE  .  .  133 
THE  BOMBYX  MORI  MOTH.  ITS  COCOON.  THE  OLEAI  THUS 

MOTH  .  137 

THE  BLOW-FLY.  THE  MOSQUITO.  THE  TZETZB  .  .  146 

LABVA  OF  HOUSE-FLY  MAGNIFIED.  HOUSE-FLY  MAGN-  TIED  149 
UNDERSIDE  OF  FOOT  OF  BLOW-FLY  ...  .153 

HEAD  OF  HOUSE-FLY  MAGNIFIED  ....  155 

A  PLAGUE  OF  FLIES  IN  THE  TROPICS  .  .  158 

ARTIFICIAL  FLIES  FOR  FISHING  •  .  .  .  .  161 

TRANSFORMATIONS  OF  THE  GNAT 165 

GADFLY ,  .  168 

DRAGON-FLY  ......  ,  ,  170 

DRAGON-FLY -.'.'..  171 

THREE  AGES  OF  THE  DRAGON-FLY  ....  173 

ANTS  CARRYING  THEIR  EGGS  INTO  THE  SUM  111 


LIST    OF   ILLUSTRATIONS.  XI 

MOT 

Aw  ANT  STORMING  PABTT    ,  ...     185 

AjfT   MILKING  AN   APHIS  .189 

NEST  OF  THB  GROUND-ANT  .        .  .194 

NEST  OP  THB  CARPENTER-ANT      ...  .195 

ANTS  DRAGGING  COCKROACH         ...                      .  200 

HILLS  OP  THE  WHITE  ANTS,  OB  TERMITES          ,        .        .  202 

ANT-LION 206 

ANTS  AND  DEAD  FROO          .......  213 

A  DROP  OP  STAGNANT  WATER  MAGNIPIBD   ....  223 

A  STAGNANT  FOOL 225 

INFUSORIA 228 

INFUSORIA 229 

FORAMHOFERA 231 

DlATOMAOBJB  AROUND  TOP  OP  SUBMERGED  ROSE  THORN      .  237 

COMMON  STAR-FISH 246 

FEATHER  STAR-FISH 247 

A»  STALKED  STAR-FISH  ........  248 

CORAL  AND  CORALLIHBS         .        •        .        .        .        .        .249 

COMMON  SEA-ANBMOVB          .......  250 

MEDUSA  SKA-ANEMOJOI          .        .        .        .        .        .        .  252 

AN  AMMONITE        .*•••••..  256 

FOSSIL  MADREPORBI      ........  259 

A  RING  ISLAND MS 

TAHITI 265 

CORAL  STONE 272 

LAUVA  OF  SAW-FLY 283 

Si  REX    GlGAS 285 

BEAVER  AT  WORK 289 

TIIK  ORGANISMS  WHICH  FORM  COMMON  CHALK— KNOWN  AS 

FORAMINIFERA,  GREATLY  MAGNIFIED  ....     296 

MINUTE  ORGANISMS  MAGNIFIED 298 

MICROSCOPIC  PLANT  LIFK    .  .    80C 


ABOUT    A    CATEKPILLAR 


ABOUT  A  CATEEPILLAE. 


rD  be  a  butterfly,  happy  and  gay  !  "  But  who,  if  he 
could  help  it,  would  be  a  caterpillar  ? 

And  yet,  as  an  old  saying  hath  it,  "  We  must  creep 
before  we  can  go.  We  must  walk  before  we  can  fly." 
A  decree  significant  of  the  beginnings  and  endings  of 
more  lives  than  are  dreamed  of  in  the  philosophy  of 
creeping  things  in  general. 

Look  at  the  crawling,  munching  creature,  contented 
and  happy  enough,  satisfied  with  its  lot,  while  that  lot  is 
cast  on  a  good  large  cabbage -leaf,  or,  with  hundreds  of 
its  fellows,  swarming  on  the  leaves  of  a  young  gooseberry- 
tree,  or  a  field  of  turnips, — repulsive  being  !  its  very  con- 
tentment is  revolting  :  we  would  fain  inspire  it  with  a 
few  sentiments  of  a  more  exalted  nature,  and  give  it 
something  to  exist  for ;  some  object  to  sigh,  to  struggle 
for,  and  in  vain  to  grasp. 

Yet  what  longings,  what  vain  ambitions  can  ever  equal 


4  TINY    WORLD. 

the  real  future  that  lies  before  this  despised  being  ? 
whose  life  yet  is  unvaried  by  dreams  of  airy  flight,  or  by 
any  anticipations  of  his  future  ;  when  he  shall  leave  his 
present  lowly  condition  to  soar  far  beyond  his  present 
ken,  mounting  aloft  on  rapid  wing,  or  balanced  for  a 


CATERPILLAU.    CHRYSALIS,    AND    BT'TTERFLY. 

moment  on  the  fair  cup  of  the  flower  whose  nectar  he 
*ips  in  passing,  in  place  of  now  slowly  munching  the 
/eaves,  or  sleeping  on  the  remains  of  his  heavy  repast. 

For  the  present,  to  eat  and  to  sleep  seems  to  be  the 
•lot  of  these  poor  crawlers.     But  look  within.     There  is 


ABOUT   A   OATEKPILLAB. 

far  more  than  meets  the  eye.  Beneath  that  mean  form, 
its  gaudy  exterior,  and  strange  appendages  of  legs,  of 
scales,  and  of  teeth,  a  process  is  being  carried  on,  a 
formation  completing,  a  perfection  advancing,  contrasted 
marvellously  with  its  exterior  existence,  and  yet  growing 
out  of  it,  sustained  by  and  assimilated  from  diet  of  the 
most  unlikely  kind — by  cabbage-leaf,  disintegrated  by  a 
course  of  equal  marches  round  its  narrowing  edge  by  the 
creature  whose  rapacious  tooth  devours  every  inch  that 
its  feet  can  tread ;  by  potato-field  ravaged  by  the  in- 
vading myriads,  or  the  leaf  and  root  of  the  forest 
tree. 

Yes,  the  future  imago  is  forming  now ;  days  of  mono- 
tonous toil,  of  diligent  accretion,  of  patient  preparation, 
and  of  tedious  torpor  in  the  antechamber  of  mortality, 
shall  result  in  that  lovely  winged  thing,  that  shall  float  on 
the  zephyr,  and  glitter  in  the  noonday  light :  the  wings, 
the  antennae,  the  exquisite  plumage  of  various  hues,  the 
inconceivable  lightness  of  the  freight  they  bear,  all 
wondrously  contrasting  with  the  form  they  left  behind : 
and  surely,  if  colour,  like  sound,  have  its  various  waves 
and  notes,  that  thing  of  beauty  shall  waft  a  song  of 
praise  to  heaven  with  every  movement  of  its  wings. 

Ah,  yes  !  like  that,  and  something  more — not  alone 
happy  and  gay,  but  blest  for  ever,  "  I'd  be  a  butterfly," 
and  gladly  pass  through  the  ordeal  of  all  the  strange, 
painful,  and  distressful  vicissitudes  that  may  prepare  and 
form  my  fortune,  for  not  to  flutter  for  a  day  and  perish 
in  a  night  shall  we  arise  from  our  imprisoning  cell : 


O  TINY    WORLD. 

*'The  grovelling  worm  shall  find  his  wings,  and  soar  as  fast  and 

free 
As  the  transfigured  One,  with  lightning  form :  * ' 

no  ephemeral  moth  born  but  to  die,  rather  to  know  no 
ond,  and  leave  mortality  behind. 

Yet,  apart  from  parables,  which  kindle  our  hopes  and 
enthusiasms,  an  inexorable  philosophy  still  asks  the  ques- 
tion, which,  so  far  unanswered,  we  may  fairly  leave  to 
wiser  heads,  as  to  the  uses  of  the  caterpillar  race  in  the 
economy  of  nature. 

Born  to  devour,  and  to  be  devoured,  in  large  propor- 
tion, it  may  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  some,  that  caterpillars 
furnish  a  savoury  food  for  robins,  and  that  the  use  of  the 
robin  is  to  devour  the  caterpillar,  which  he  does  right 
manfully  at  the  rate  of  three  hundred  for  his  breakfast : 
but  it  answers  nought  to  the  inquiries  of  those  who  seek 
a  final  cause  in  each  atom  of  creation.  The  only  end  it 
seems  to  serve  is  what  some  call  by  the  hard  name  of  a 
"  transposed  end,"  an  end  cropping  up  in  the  path  of  its 
destiny  and  interrupting  it — much  in  the  way  that  a 
child  gathers  daisies,  and  fulfils  their  transposed  end  of 
his  amusement  by  hanging  them  in  a  chain  round  his 
neck. 

The  caterpillar  fulfils  the  transposed  end  of  its  exist- 
ence, in  the  way  of  animal  nutrition  (though  it  never  live 
to  be  a  butterfly),  albeit  the  good  of  man  be  never  appa- 
rently reached,  for  he  neither  eats  the  caterpillar  that 
devours  the  cabbage,  nor  does  he  even  eat  the  robin  that 
•wallows  the  caterpillar  that  devours  the  cabbage ;  nay, 


ABOUT    A    CATEBPILLAR.  7 

further,  the  "transposed  end"  of  the  caterpillar  affects 
man  in  the  shape  of  a  blight ;  for  when  the  caterpillar 
eats  the  leaf,  the  fruit  is  rendered  worthless  by  the 
absorption  of  the  juices  that  should  have  fed  the  leaves. 

Then,  What  is  the  use  ? 

Could  the  caterpillar  speak  as  well  as  eat — and  why 


LARVA   OF   DICRANURA. 


should  it  not  ?  only  it  was  sent  into  the  world  not  to 
talk,  but  to  do  its  duty — perhaps  it  might  retort  the 
query :  Have  you,  my  caustic  friend,  my  utilitarian 
investigator,  made  the  important  discovery  what  you 
were  sent  into  the  world  to  do  ?  and  are  you  doing  it  ? 
The  use  you'll  find  out  by-and-by ;  and,  meanwhile, 


TINY    WORLD. 

accept  a  suggestion  very  practically  exemplified  by  oui 
company  of  crawlers — as  to  a  complete  disentanglement 
from  an  old  skin  or  a  bad  habit,  for  which  an  effort  is 
required,  that  might  have  seemed  in  anticipation  im- 
possible. 

It  is  thus  described,  and  is  too'interesting  not  to  record 
at  length : 

"  There  is  a  phenomenon  in  the  life  of  caterpillars 
which  we  ought  to  point  out,  and  which  has  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  most  illustrious  observers.  All 
caterpillars  change  their  skins  many  times  during  their 
life.  It  is  not  indeed  enough  to  say  that  they  change 
their  skins.  The  skins  or  cases  they  cast  are  so  complete 
that  they  might  be  taken  for  entire  caterpillars.  The 
hairs,  the  cases  of  the  legs,  the  nails  with  which  the  legs 
are  provided,  the  hard  and  solid  parts  which  cover  the 
head,  the  teeth — all  these  are  found  in  the  skin  which  the 
insect  abandons. 

"  What  an  operation  for  the  poor  little  animal ! 

"  The  work  is  so  enormous,  so  troublesome,  that  one 
cannot  form  a  just  idea  of  it.  One  or  two  days  before' 
this  grand  crisis,  they  leave  off  eating,  lose  their  usual 
activity,  and  become  motionless  and  languid.  Their 
colour  fades,  their  skin  dries  by  little  and  little,  they 
bow  ftheir  backs, 'swell  out  their  segments. 

"At  last  this  dried-up  skin  splits  below  the  back,  on 
the  second  or  third  ring,  and  lets  us  have  a  glimpse  of  a 
small  portion  of  the  new  skin,  easily  to  be  recognised  by 
the  freshness  and  brightness  of  its  colours. 


ABOUT   A    CATEKPILLAR. 


9 


"When  once  the  split  has  begun,"  says  Reaumur,  "it 
is  easy  for  the  insect  to  extend  it ;  it  continues  to  swell 
out  that  part  of  its  body  which  is  opposite  the  split. 
Very  soon  this  part  raises  itself  above  the  sides  of  the 
split ;  it  does  the  work  of  a  wedge,  which  elongates  it : 


THE   LOOPER   CATERPILLAR. 


thus  the  split  soon  extends  from  the  end  or  the  com- 
mencement of  the  first  ring,  as  far  as  the  other  side  of 
the  end  of  the  fourth. 

"  The  upper  portion  of  the  body  which  corresponds  to 
these  four  rings  is  then  laid  bare,  and  the  caterpillar  has 


10  TINY    WORLD. 

an  opening  sufficiently  large  to  serve  it  as  an  egress, 
through  which  it  can  entirely  leave  its  old  skin.  It 
curves  the  fore  part,  and  draws  it  backward ;  by  this 
movement  it  disengages  its  head  from  under  its  old 
envelope,  and  brings  it  up  to  the  beginning  of  the  crack  ; 
immediately  upon  this,  it  raises  it,  and  causes  it  to  go 
out  through  this  crack. 

"  The  moment  afterwards  it  stretches  out  its  fore  part, 
and  lowers  its  head. 

"  There  now  remains  for  the  caterpillar  nothing  but  to 
draw  its  hinder  part  from  the  old  case.  This  excessively 
laborious  operation  is  finished  in  less  than  a  minute. 

"  The  new  lining  which  the  caterpillar  has  just  put  on 
is  fresh  and  bright  in  colour.  But  the  animal  is  ex- 
hausted by  its  fast,  and  the  efforts  it  has  made,  and 
requires  a  few  hours  in  which  to  regain  its  equilibrium." 

Apparently  the  caterpillar  is  an  adventurous  being, 
much  addicted  to  attempting  and  never  failing  to  accom 
plish  the  most  difficult  feats  of  the  acrobat. 

Having,  as  we  have  just  seen,  succeeded  in  turning 
himself  inside  out ;  there  are  species  which  attain  the 
yet  more  difficult  art  of  suspending  themselves  head 
downwards  or  by  the  middle  of  their  bodies  before  com- 
mencing the  operation  of  forming  the  cocoon.  The 
operation  is  attended  with  considerable  difficulty,  and  is 
one  of  which  a  mathematician  might  be  proud.  It  had 
escaped  the  observation  of  many  naturalists,  although  the 
little  creature  which  so  successfully  performs  it  is  one  oi 
iho  most  common  of  our  English  caterpillar?  the  little 


ABOUT    A    CATERPILLAR.  11 

Vanessa  urtica,  common  on  the  stinging  nettle,  and  dis- 
tinguished  by  numerous  black  specks  on  its  dusky  tody, 

The  plant  on  which  it  feeds  seems  to  afford  too 
insecure  a  support  for  the  intended  chrysalis,  and.  the 
insect,  on  the  approach  of  its  transformation,  quits  its 
usual  resort  and  seeks  some  more  convenient  point  of 
suspension,  where  in  the  following  manner  it  commences 
operations. 

Threads  are  laid,  in  most  admired  disorder,  as  a  cover 
ing  to  the  surface  of  the  body  from  which  it  desires  to 
hang.     To  this  earliest  layer  a  fresh  labyrinth  of  silken 
threads  is  added,  covering  a  smaller  surface,  and  so  on 
ever  contracting  the  extent  whilst  thickening  the  central 
mass,  and  thus  forming  a  little  mound  of  loosely-woven 
fibre,  just  firm  enough  to  bear  the  weight  about  to  be 
imposed  upon  it. 

If  we  had  contrived  such  a  mechanical  device,  should 
we  not  have  cast  about  rather  for  a  hook  or  a  thorn  to 
hang  from,  and  woven  the  loop  on  the  body  to  be 
suspended?  But  the  hook  is  there  before,  and  has 
already  answered  many  useful  purposes,  before  this  last, 
to  the  body  of  the  caterpillar.  The  membranous  feet  of 
the  little  creature  are  armed  with  tiny  hooks  of  various 
lengths,  with  the  aid  of  which  it  suspends  itself. 

By  wriggling  contractions  and  elongations  of  its  body 
it  pushes  the  hindermost  legs  against  the  hillock  of  silk, 
BO  firmly  as  to  entangle  them  in  its  meshes ;  it  is  then 
seen  to  "  let  go  "  and  fall  securely  into  a  vertical  position. 
It  hangs  there,  but  not  idly,  sometimes  as  long  as 


12 


TINY   WOELD. 


twenty-four  hours,  engaged  in  the  sober,  staid  operation 
of  "  splitting  its  sides  "  with  labour — not  with  laughter — 
and  when  split,  in  folding  downwards  like  a  cast-off 
garment  the  striped  and  dusky  skin,  bristling  with  ebony 
spines,  in  which  it  crawled  so  long. 


THE    COMMON    CATERPILLAR. 

No  longer  useful  to  its  possessor,  this  garment  must 
be  not  only  folded  into  the  smallest  possible  space,  and 
gradually,  by  means  of  continuous  contortions,  pushed 
upwards  till  it  covers  only  the  narrowest  end  of  the 
chrysalis,  but  must  be  discarded  whilst  the  chrygalis 
remains  in  statu  quo. 


ABOUT    A    CATERPILLAR.  18 

And  how  shall  this  be  done  ? 

Let  Blondin  live  and  learn.  The  creature  has  neither 
legs  nor  arms,  and  must  yet  set  itself  free  from  the  skin 
and  reach  the  threads  from  which  it  is  suspended.  Its 
supple  body  has  a  contractile  power  which  supplies  the 
office  of  the  limbs.  Between  two  of  its  segments  the 


CHRYSALIDES. 

insect  seizes  a  portion  of  the  folded  skin  so  firmly  as  to 
support  the  entire  body.  It  now  curves  slightly  the 
hinder  parts,  and  draws  the  tail  entirely  out  of  the  sheath 
in  which  it  was  enclosed,  and  for  an  instant  reposes 
before  freeing  itself  entirely  from  the  encumbrance. 
Curving  the  part  below  its  tail,  so  that  it  can  seize 


14  TINY    WORLD. 

the  thread  to  which  it  holds  on,  it  gives  its  body  a 
violent  shock,  which  makes  it  spin  round  many  times  on 
its  tail  with  great  rapidity. 

During  these  pirouettes  the  chrysalis  is  acting  against 
the  skin,  and  the  hooks  of  its  legs  fray  the  threads  and 
break  them  or  disentangle  themselves.  If  unsuccessful 
in  this  effort,  it  begins  to  twirl  itself  in  the  opposite 
direction,  and  rarely  fails  the  second  time. 

It  is  from  the  golden  hue  of  this  chrysalis,  which  is 
sometimes  brown  with  golden  spots,  and  sometimes 
entirely  golden,  that  the  term  chrysalis  (from  xpwrios, 
golden)  was  suggested  to  the  ancient  naturalists.  From 
this  chrysalis  emerges  in  due  time — and  that  very  short 
— the  common,  but  most  beautiful,  tortoise-shell  butter- 
fly. 

The  yet  more  common  and  less  richly-tinted  Pieris 
brassica  is  in  its  transformations  a  still  more  accom- 
plished acrobat.  It  forms,  like  its  neighbour  of  the 
nettle,  a  labyrinth  of  silk  to  hang  from,  but  seems  to 
prefer  a  horizontal  to  a  perpendicular  position,  and  acts 
accordingly,  after  having  hooked  itself  firmly  by  the 
nails  of  the  hinder  feet  to  the  point  of  suspension. 

^his  caterpillar  possesses  the  power  of  turning  back 
its  head  on  to  its  back  after  having  lengthened  its  body 
to  a  certain  point,  and,  with  its  six  legs  in  the  air,  of 
reaching  to  its  fifth  ring.  It  can  also,  by  bending  side- 
ways, bring  its  head,  with  the  thread-spinning  apparatus 
which  is  below,  opposite  and  near  to  one  of  the  mem- 
branous legs. 


ABOUT    A    CATERPILLAR. 


15 


The  caterpillar  begins  operations  by  fixing  on  this 
point  a  single  thread,  the  first  of  those  that  are  intended 
to  tie  it  up  securely. 

But  how  can  it  throw  the  thread  over  its  head  2 


A   COMMUNITY   OF   CATERPILLARS. 


The  problem  is  almost  as  difficult  as  a  boy's  first 
essay  when  he  has  mounted  his  knickerbockers,  and 
must  get  his  braces  over  his  shoulders.  It  contrives  to 
catch  hold  of  the  thread  with  its  head,  and,  drawing  it  to 


16 


TINY    WORLD. 


the  other  side,  it  forms  a  loose  loop  over  its  double  body. 
Having  seen  that  this  loop  is  firmly  attached  on  both 
sides,  it  wriggles  its  head  a  little  further  back,  spins 
another  thread  from  its  tail,  which  it  firmly  attaches  on 
the  opposite  side,  and  then,  by  a  jerk,  contrives  to  pass 
the  thread  over  the  crease  between  its  head  and  neck. 
Again  and  again  it  repeats  the  same  operation,  until  it 
has  formed  a  loop  strong  enough  to  bear  its  weight, 
when  it  completes  its  somersault,  and,  in  little  more 
than  a  day,  its  transformation  into  the  chrysalis  is  com- 
plete. 

But  many  other  caterpillars  are  not  content  with 
fastening  their  horny  case  to  a  branch  or  rock.  Before 
performing  the  feats  we  have  described,  they  spin  their 
houses  of  silk,  in  which  they  may  undress  and  sleep, 
withdrawn  from  the  vulgar  gaze. 

Some  work  in  communities  (see  page  15),  and  make 
one  large  cocoon  like  a  great  silken  bag  supply  the 
dressing-room  for  a  large  family. 

Others  gum  together  a  case  of  leaves ;  some  take  to 
masonry  instead  of  carpentering  or  spinning,  and  gum 
together  a  shell  of  earth  or  mortar,  kneaded  with  silk, 
and  finely  plastered  within.  If  disturbed  before  they 
have  completed  their  transformation,  they  will  put  out 
their  head,  and  gather  little  grains  of  earth,  which  they 
entangle  in  silky  threads  until  the  gap  is  completely 
closed. 

Others  again,  especially  in  Australia,  roof  their  abodes 
with  shingle,  after  the  fashion  of  our  New  Zealand 


ABOUT    A    CATERPILLAR. 


17 


colonists  ;  little  bits 
of  bark  being  cut, 
and  placed  together 
with  all  the  regu- 
larity of  an  expe- 
rienced slater. 

In  fact,  there  is 
no  human  mechani- 
cal art  which  may 
not  find  its  proto- 
type in  insect  archi- 
tecture. Lake  dwel- 
lings, cave  men, 
bark  huts,  wig- 
wams, woven  tents, 
diving  bells,  clay 
houses,  existed  long 
before  man  adapted 
the  materials  around 
him  to  the  varied 
conditions  in  which 
.he  sought  to  make 
his  home.  In  these 
varied  dwellings, 
whether  of  the  finest 
silk,  or  the  roughest 
masonry,  the  once 
grovelling  caterpil- 
lar rests,  sometime B 


18  TINY   WORLD. 

only  a  few  weeks,  sometimes  a  year,  till  it  emerges  in 
due  time  to  a  new  existence,  in  which,  careless  of  food  or 
clothing,  it  flits  from  flower  to  flower,  its  only  care  being 
now  the  reproduction  of  its  species ;  and  having  laid  its 
eggs,  a  few  showers  or  a  windy  day  close  the  chapter  ol 
existence  of  the  spangled  butterfly. 


THE  SPIDEE  AND  ITS  WEBB, 


THE  SPIDEE  AND  ITS  WEBS. 


PART  I. 

/^VNCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  spider.  Not  one  of 
those  happy  creatures  who  spin  their  gossamer 
webs  in  green  lanes  or  shady  forests,  where  they  glance 
in  the  sunshine  or  glisten  with  dew  to  make  captives 
of  the  bright  unwary  creatures  passing  by  in  the  free 
summer  air  ;  nor  yet  one  of  those  unfortunate  Penelopes 
who  day  by  day  weave  afresh  their  webs,  to  be  as  often 
torn  away  by  the  unwearied  housemaid,  who  with  her 
turk's-head  brush,  poking  into  corners,  peeping  behind 
shutters  and  into  the  recesses  of  closets,  would  sweep  to 
destruction  the  homes  and  hopes  of  the  spider  race.  It 
was  none  of  these,  but  a  plain  brown  spider  of  homely 
birth  and  habits,  suited  to  a  cottage  home,  though 
possibly  with  hidden  aspirations  within  him,  such  as 
may  have  swelled  the  breast  of  many  a  village  Hampdeu 
who  lived  and  died  inglorious. 

21 


22  TINY    WORLD. 

Well,  now,  to  return  to  the  spider. 

His  home  was  a  hovel,  the  rafters  of  which  at  wide 
intervals  supported  the  thatch,  through  which  the  smoke 
found  scanty  exit.  Without  splendour,  there  was  spider 
comfort,  and  no  rude  winds  tore  his  web  to  atoms,  no 
officious  housemaid  with  her  ruthless  broom  brushed 
away  his  larder  well  stocked  with  flies.  But  the  spider 
was  restless.  He  dreamed  of  a  lot  cast  in  a  higher 
region,  where  his  webs  might  curtain  the  arches  and 
festoon  the  pillars  -of  a  king's  palace.  Had  he  ever 
heard  what  Agur,  the  son  of  Jakeh,  says  of  the  spider, 
who  "taketh  hold  with  her  hands  and  is  in  kings' 
palaces  "  ?  (Prov.  xxx.  28)  (though  philosophers  do  say 
that  the  wise  man  had  a  lizard  of  some  kind  in  his  mind 
when  he  made  that  allusion). 

"  Alas  !  "  said  our  cottage  friend,  "  that  my  life  should 
pass  so  uneventful  and  so  unobserved  on  this  retired 
rafter ;  that  far  from  courting  observation,  or  even 
attracting  the  notice  of  the  sordid  giants  of  the  human 
race  who  inhabit  this  smoky  den,  I  am  never  thought 
worth  looking  after,  nor  does  my  web,  weighed  down 
with  dust  and  skeletons,  demand  of  them  the  trouble  of 
sweeping  it  away.  A  palace  were  a  better  sphere  for  me. 
My  industry,  my  taste,  and  the  fineness  of  my  fabric 
might  there  win  the  admiration  of  all  who  had  time  to 
examine  the  ingenuity  of  its  construction  ;  while  history 
might  record  my  successful  capture  of  a  blue-bottle  about 
to  settle  en  the  nose  of  the  monarch ! '' 

Happily,  a  good  night's  rest,  after  a  plentiful  supper; 


THE    COMMON    SriDEK   AND    ITS    WEB. 


THE    SPEDEB    AND   ITS    WEBS.  25 

restored  the  spider  to  a  more  complacent  state  of  mind 
with  respect  to  his  existing  circumstances  and  his  native 
home ;  and,  balancing  himself  on  the  delicate  meshes  of 
his  dusty  web,  he  took  measure  of  his  present  position, 
and  of  his  actual  powers,  with  a  view  to  their  exercise 
and  improvement,  in  case  the  palace  for  which  he  longed 
should  ever  open  its  portals  for  his  reception. 

"  Could  I,"  he  mused,  "  all  untrained  as  I  am  in  this 
lonely  shed,  weave  like  those  lighter  spiders  whose 
slender  bodies  and  lengthened  limbs  dart  almost  unseen 
through  those  lofty  corridors,  and  weave  in  those  ele- 
vated niches  for  which  I  so  often  sigh,— I,  whose  body 
has  become  heavy  with  the  gross  fare  of  this  confined 
cottage, — my  fate  might  be  that  foreshadowed  by  the 
poet,  that  '  vaulting  ambition  doth  sometimes  o'erleap 
itself,  and  fall  on  t'other  side.'  No.  But  I  will  fit 
myself.  I  will  cultivate  my  powers,  and  extend  my 
efforts,  till  my  perseverance  at  least  shall  be  worthy  of 
imitation.  Hitherto  I  have  been  content  with  spinning 
my  wreb  in  this  dark  corner,  where  no  effort  is  needed  to 
stretch  it  from  rafter  to  rafter.  At  least  I  will  deserve,  if 
I  do  not  gain,  the  gratitude  of  the  giants  who  sleep 
below  me.  How 'often  have  I  watched  them  tormented 
in  their  sleep  by  some  pertinacious  fly,  or  some  vicious 
little  imp  of  a  gnat,  which  settled  on  their  eyelid,  or 
buzzed  in  their  ear,  while  they  winked  and  winced,  and 
turned  from  side  to  side  to  elude  their  plagues  !  But  aa 
they  moved,  their  nimble  tormentor  darted  out  of  reach, 
and  came  down  again  in  an  instant  Ah !  if  I  had 


26 


TINY    WORLD. 


woven  a  nobler  web,  had  I  stretched  it  just  over  their 
heads,  I  might  soon  have  trapped  their  plagues,  and  laid 
up  a  good  breakfast  for  myself  at  the  same  time." 

From  this  musing  he  proceeded  to  action,  and  from 
the  inner  recesses  of  his  self-consciousness  he  evolved  a 
long  silken  thread  on  which  to  hang  not  his  argument, 
but  himself. 

Dropping   first  a    little   gum   from    his   spinneret,   he 


SPINNERETS,    GREATLY    MAGNIFIED. 


proceeded  gently  to  draw  out  from  his  body  a  long 
viscous  thread.  The  end  of  it  he  carefully  glued  to  his 
rafter,  and  then  gently  letting  himself  down,  he  rapidly 
but  very  carefully  combed  out  this  gum  into  a  long 
thread  between  the  claws  of  his  hind  legs,  taking  care 
that  it  was  strong  enough  to  support  his  weight ;  it 
instantly  dried  into  hard  fine  silk. 

Thus  he  was  transformed  into  a  species  of  pendulum, 


THE    SPIDER    AND    ITS    WEBS.  27 

the  vibrations  of  which  should  affect,  if  not  the  history  of 
the  whole  world,  at  least  that  of  his  own  particular 
ambition. 

Ignorant  of  the  higher  mathematics,  or  even  of  the 
simpler  laws  which  govern  gravitation,  knowing  nothing 
of  the  movements  of  the*  radii  of  circles,  or  of  the  arcs 
which  they  describe,  he  yet,  in  his  vain  attempts  to 
reach  the  next  rafter,  and  in  the  constant  return  of  his 
little  cargo  of  legs  to  the  other  side  of  his  beat,  described 


SPIDER  S   CLAW,    MAGNIFIED; 

an  orbit  regulated  by  mathematical  rules  as  exact  as 
those  which  were  at  the  same  moment  carrying  him,  his 
web.  his  hovel,  and  the  earth  on  which  jt  stood,  with 
unerring  force  through  the  regions  of  space.  The  point 
at  which  he  aimed  was  a  distant  one,  but  to  his  ardent 
imagination  it  seemed  not  unattainable. 

"  What  spider  has  done,  spider  may  dri,"  thought 
he,  as  he  swung  disconsolately  back  from  his  second 
unsuccessful  attempt. 


28  TINY   WORLD. 

Again  he  applied  his  hind  legs  to  the  end  of  his 
abdomen,  and  gently  teazed  out  a  little  more  of  the  glu- 
tinous fluid,  and  carefully  combed  it  into  long  silken  hairs. 
" Perhaps,"  he  reflected  within  himself,  "with  a  little 
longer  web  I  may  succeed."  Pausing  a  moment,  he 
looked  dowri  and  contrasted  himself  favourably  with  a 
human  being  who  had  lately  entered  the  hovel,  and  had 
flung  himself  down  on  the  pallet  bed,  with  the  hopeless 
and  worn  expression  of  one  with  whom  effort  and  success 
had  not  gone  hand  in  hand.  The  spider  saw  he  was  a 
stranger,  and  began  to  criticize  somewhat  contemptu- 
ously his  soiled  and  tattered  appearance. 

But  vanity  had  a  large  share  in  our  spider's  composition, 
and  when  he  noted  how  the  wanderer's  eyes,  which 
at  first  roved  vacantly  from  object  to  object  with  a  weary 
stare,  at  length  rested  on  himself,  he  felt  spurred  on 
to  more  vigorous  efforts.  Never  before  had  one  of  the 
familiar  faces  of  that  cottage  been  fixed  on  him  or  his 
work.  "I  will  prove  myself  worthy,"  resolved  be,  "  of 
human  notice.  That  man  shall  learn  now  how  even 
a  cottage  spider  can  float  in  air,  where  he  cannot 
follow." 

Again  he  tried ;  with  a  sudden  motion,  stretching  out 
his  legs,  he  pushed  himself  back,  and  swung  once  more 
towards  the  rafter.  It  seemed  to  retreat  still  further  from 
his  unequal  efforts. 

Again  he  tried.  "England,  Scotland,  Spider-land 
expects  every  one  to  do  his  duty,"  was  perhaps  the 
thought  that  animated  the  renewed  effort  of  the  spirited 


THE    SPIDER   AND   ITS    WEBS.  29 

rret tare  ;  and  it  seemed  in  some  mysterious  manner  to 
communicate  its  energy  to  the  lustreless  eyes  of  the  way- 
worn traveller.  Warrior  he  seemed  as  well  as  huntsman, 
for  his  bugle  and  his  sword  hung  side  by  side  from  his 
loosened  belt.  His  eyes  became  riveted  on  the  little 
animal,  so  unremitting,  so  dauntless,  yet  so  unsuccessful. 
A  fellow-feeling  touched,  perhaps,  a  sympathetic  chord, 
and  kindled  the  almost  extinguished  embers  of  hope 
that  had  well-nigh  given  way  to  despair,  alternating  with 
sad  and  revengeful  thoughts. 

Beneath  that  spider  lay  Robert  Bruce,  the  defeated  and 
almost  hopeless  hero  of  Scotland.  Ah !  little  spider,  had 
you  taken  hold  with  your  hands  of  a  king's  palace, 
instead  'of  the  rafters  of  a  cotter's  hut,  your  lot  might 
have  been  a  more  brilliant,  probably  a  shorter,  most 
certainly  a  less  useful  one. 

Four  times,  five  times,  six  times,  swings  the  living 
pendulum  from  side  to  side,  and  failing  to  gain  his  own 
object,  rebounds  again,  baffled,  but  not  disheartened. 
The  seventh  time  it  gathers  up  its  energies  and  repeats 
the  effort.  It  has  won  at  last. 

"  Never  say  die "  thrills  the  giant  heart  of  the 
champion  of  Scottish  liberties,  as  he  recalls  how  six  times' 
he  has  been  defeated,  and  beholds  the  little  animal  safely 
resting  on  the  rafter  it  has  scaled  at  last  with  so  much 
effort.  Little  did  it  think  how  a  mighty  courage  had 
been  rekindled  by  its  tiny  struggles,  and  that  a  page 
in  history  would  ennoble  the  memory  of  the  cottay* 
spider 


30 


TIM'/    WORLD. 


But  it  is  not  every  spider  that  can  expect  a  place  in 
story.  Yet  there  is  many  another  spider,  which,  if  v.o 
watched  it,  would  teach  us  a  lesson,  if  not  as  grand  as 
that  which  Robert  Bruce  learned,  yet  one  very  useful  or 
interesting. 


THE    GAR»EN    SPIDER. 


There  are  nearly  300  kinds  of  British  spiders,  living 
not  only  in  cottages  and  halls,  but  in  lanes  and  hedges,  or 
trees,  or  in  fields,  but  some  burying  themselves  in  the 
grounl,  and  others,  stranger  still,  living  under  water — 
not  in  it,  like  fishes  or  reptiles,  but  actually  bottling  the 


THE    SPIDER   AND    ITS   WEB3.  81 

air,  taking  it  down  with  them,  and  keeping  enough  about 
them  to  breathe,  and  then,  when  that  is  exhausted, 
coming  up  again  for  a  fresh  supply. 

But  all  these  spiders  weave  webs,  and  the  webs  are 
almost  as  various  as  the  spiders.  If  there  are  near  300 
species  of  spiders  in  this  country,  there  are  as  many  dif- 
ferent patterns  of  webs.  Just  as  silk  is  woven  into  sar- 
senet, or  satin,  or  velvet,  or  net,  so  the  fairy  gossamer  of 
the  spider's  web  is  spun  sometimes  to  form  the  brown 
dust-catching  silk  which  festoons  the  neglected  corners  of 
a  room ;  sometimes  those  beautiful  patterns  of  network 
we  see  jewelled  with  dewdrops  on  a  summer's  morning 
in  the  hedges,  or  the  fine  threads  which  stretch  from  tree 
to  tree,  or  the  light  hairs  we  catch  up  with  our  feet  as  wo 
walk  across  a  field  in  early  spring.  But  all  spiders  spin, 
though  all  do  not  spin  nets. 

Some  content  themselves  with  spinning  houses  for  their 
young  ones,  and  very  tight  and  tough  houses  those  white 
and  yellow  silk  bags  are.  Other  subterranean  spiders 
make  silk  hinges  for  the  doors  of  their  houses,  of  which 
we  may  have  something  more  to  say  further  on.  And 
others  make  literal  fishing-nets,  for  the  water-spiders 
of  which  we  spoke  actually  spin  webs  in  the  water  and 
catch  the  water  insects. 

There  is  one  spider,  the  tarantula,  not  an  English 
animal  (insect  we  must  not  call  it,  for  spiders,  small  as 
they  are,  are  not  insects,  but  far  more  like  crabs  or 
lobsters),  about  which  strange  stories  are  told,  not  quite 
so  pleasing  as  that  of  Robert  Bruce's  spider,  for  it  is  said 


82  TINT  WORLD. 

to  have  a  poisonous  bite,  which  forces  people,  not  to  try 
again  like  Bruce,  but  to  dance  like  maniacs.  The  bite  ia 
not,  however,  very  serious,  and  I  have  often  caught  the 
tarantula  in  warm  countries  without  being  hurt  by  it. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  spider,  which  by  candle- 
light looks  as  large  as  a  mouse  running  across  a  room, 
which  is  a  very  old  friend  of  mine. 

I  once  had  one  of  these  spiders,  a  sort  of  Mi/gale,  as  it 
would  be  called  in  books  of  natural  history,  which  I  kept 
tame  in  my  bed  for  a  year  and  a  half,  and  which  I  think 
was  quite  as  noble  a  spider  as  Robert  Bruce's  friend.  It 
was  in  the  island  of  Bermuda,  which  swarms  with  every 
kind  of  disagreeable  insects,  and  where  the  mosquitoes, 
gigantic  blood-thirsty  gnats,  not  only  murder  sleep  by 
their  sharp  shrieking  buzz  in  the  ear  all  night  long,  but 
thrust  their  long  lancets  through  the  skin  and  suck  out 
the  blood,  raising  great  sores  which  are  often  very 
troublesome.  No  one  can  sleep  there  in  peace  without  a 
mosquito  net,  or  large  bag  made  of  bobbin  net,  which  is 
hung  from  a  hook  in  the  ceiling,  and  covers  the  whole 
bed  to  the  ground,  like  a  huge  gauze  nightcap.  But  the 
mosquitoes  are  very  active,  and  when  you  lift  up  the  net 
to  get  into  bed  some  of  them  are  sure  to  be  nimble  enough 
to  get  in  with  you  to  keep  you  company. 

Now  my  bedfellows  were  very  troublesome,  and  would 
neither  sleep  themselves  nor  let  me  sleep.  Sometimes 
they  tasted  the  tip  of  my  nose,  then  they  bored  my  ears, 
then  'bey  ran  their  lancets  into  my  eyelids,  singing  all  the 
time  most  hideously 


THE    SPIDER    AND   ITS    WEBS.  88 

At  last  I  determined  to  make  friends  with  a  \tiTge 
spider.  I  caught  him  one  evening  as  he  was  jumping 
after  the  flies  in  the  window  curtains,  and  put  him  into  a 
little  bag  which  I  fastened  inside  my  net  at  the  very  top. 

Then  I  fed  him  with  large  flies  for  a  few  days,  until  he 
began  to  find  himself  in  very  comfortable  quarters,  and 
thought  of  spinning  a  nest  and  making  his  home.  I  then 
cut  a  hole  in  the  bag,  and  my  spider  soon  spun  a  beautiful 
nest  as  large  as  a  wine  glass  for  himself,  winding  himseli 
round  and  round,  as  he  combed  out  the  silk  from  the  end 
of  his  tail.  In  this  nest  he  sat  perfectly  motionless,  for 
these  spiders  do  not  weave  nets,  but  only  homes  foi 
themselves  and  their  young  ones,  and  catch  their  prey  by 
leaping  upon  them  with  amazing  speed. 

There  at  the  top  of  the  nest  sat  my  friend,  and  often 
have  I  watched  him  when  a  fly  or  mosquito  got  inside  our 
gauzy  tent.  I  could  fancy^  I  saw  his  eyes  twinkle  as  his 
victims  buzzed  about,  till,  when  they  were  within  a  yard 
or  so  of  the  top,  one  spring,  and  the  fly  was  in  his  forceps 
or  nippers,  and  another  leap  took  him  back  to  his  den, 
where  he  soon  finished  the  savoury  mouthful.  Sometimes 
he  would  bound  from  side  to  side  of  the  bed,  and  seize  a 
mosquito  at  every  spring,  resting  only  a  moment  on  the 
net  to  swallow  it. 

In  another  corner  of  the  room  was  the  nest  of  a  female 
Mygale  of  the  same  species.  She  was  not  content  with 
so  small  a  house  as  her  husband,  but  added  some  beautiful 
little  silk  bags  or  cocoons  larger  than  a  thimble,  of  very 
tough  yellow  silk  made  by  herself,  in  each  of  which  she 

D 


84  TINY    WORLD. 

laid  more  than  a  dozen  spider's  eggs,  which  used  to  sit  OL 
her  back  when  hatched,  but  which  all  disappeared  a  i 
soon  as  they  were  old  enough  to  hunt  and  leap  for  them 
s«lves. 

I  kept  my  useful  friend  in  bed  for  nearly  a  year  and  a 
half,  when  unfortunately  one  day  a  new  housemaid  spied 
his  pretty  brown  house,  pul'ed  it  down,  and  cruahed 
her  black  feet  my  poor  companion. 


THE  SPIDEB  AND  ITS  WEBS. 


PAKT  IF. 

was  another  kind  of  spider  in  Bermuda,  much 
-•-  more  handsome  than  my  bedfellow,  but  not  nearly  so 
great  a  favourite  of  mine,  about  an  inch  long,  without 
measuring  its  long  legs,  and  with  a  bright  yellow  and 
black  body  painted  in  beautiful  patterns.  This  spider  did 
not  weave  nets,  but  nooses  of  bright  yellow  silk.  It 
spun  them  in  the  woods  from  tree  to  tree,  sitting  at  the 
extremity  of  a  branch,  and  then,  taking  advantage  of  a 
breath  of  wind,  it  would  sail  out  into  the  air,  carrying  its 
thread  behind  it,  till  it  reached  the  next  tree,  where  it 
fastened  it,  and  then  started  back  again  with  another 
thread. 

These  spiders  generally  choose  the  tre"es  on  each  side  of 
a  pathway  for  their  operations,  and  the  silken  threads  hang 
across  it  in  myriads.  When  the  large  beautiful  butterflies 
come  fluttering  down  the  avenue  in  the  sunlight,  they 


36  TIN!    WOULD. 

often  get  their  wings  entangled  in  these  cords.  If  the 
cord  breaks  at  once,  the  butterfly  escapes,  but  if  not,  in 
its  struggles  it  would  soon  touch  two  or  three  more  lines, 
and  as  soon  as  it  was  completely  entangled  the  spider 
would  come  running  along  its  thread  from  the  tree,  and 
rapidly  moving  round  and  round  its  lovely  prey,  would 
spin  its  gummy  silk  till  the  butterfly  was  completely 
fettered,  when  it  devoured  its  captive  on  the  spot. 

I  once  saw  two  of  these  spiders  together  capture  a 
bird,  a  greenlet,  about  the  size  of  a  wren,  in  this  way. 
The  threads  had  got  so  entangled  round  its  wings,  that 
the  spiders  were  able  to  seize  it  as  it  struggled  in  the 
snare,  and  had  bitten  its  throat  so  severely  that,  though 
I  freed  it  after  watching  the  battle  for  a  minute  or  two, 
the  poor  little  bird  died  in  my  hand. 

An  ingenious  American  tried  to  make  use  of  this  silk, 
and  once  exhibited  at  a  show  in  Bermuda  a  yellow  silk 
handkerchief  of  spiders'  webs.  But  though  it  was  far 
finer  than  silkworms'  silk,  it  was  so  troublesome  to 
collect  that  no  one  attempted  the  manufacture  after- 
wards. 

There  is  another  spider  which  I  have  often  watched 
in  Greece  and  the  Holy  Land,  which  is,  I  think,  the 
most  wonderful  of  all  in  its  architecture.  It  is  also  a 
Mygale,  but  much  smaller  than  those  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking,  and  is  commonly  known  as  the  Mason 
Spider. 

This  spider  is  entirely  nocturnal  in  its  habits,  and 
never  either  hunts  or  feeds  in  daylight,  but  makes  itself 


8PIBBB.   ATTACKING    MOST    OF    HUMMING    BIKD8. 


87 


THE    SPIDER    AND   ITS   WEBS.  89 

ft  most  comfortable  house,  where  it  is  perfectly  safe  and 
locked  up  till  sunset. 

It  bores  a  circular  hole  in  the  side  of  a  bank,  or  any 
sloping  ground,  about  the  size  of  a  man's  middle  finger. 
The  tunnel  is  most  exactly  rounded,  and  from  2  to  4  in. 
deep.  To  rake  up  the  earth  and  shovel  it  away,  it  has 
a  row  of  hard  points  on  its  heady  like  the  teeth  of  a 
rake.  As  soon  as  it  has  scooped  out  the  soil,  it  lines  the 
tunnel  with  silk,  through  which  no  damp  can  penetrate  ; 
and  no  drawing-room  was  ever  so  beautifully  plastered, 
and  papered  with  damask,  as  the  mason  spider's  sitting- 
room. 

But  the  door  is  the  most  wonderful  part  of  this  man- 
sion. The  spider  does  not  like  draughts,  and  cannot 
bear  having  the  door  left  open,  so  it  contrives  that  it 
shall  shut  itself.  The  door  is  perfectly  round  and  flat, 
about  the  size  of  a  sixpence,  but  very  thick,  made  of  thin 
layers  of  fine  earth  moistened  and  worked  together  with 
fine  silk,  so  that  it  is  very  tough  and  elastic,  and  cannot 
crumble ;  with  a  wonderful  silk  hinge  at  the  top.  The 
hinge  is  elastic  silk,  very  springy,  and  so  tight  that  when 
the  door  is  opened  it  closes  immediately  with  a  sharp 
snap. 

But  the  door  does  not  fit  on  to  the  house,  but  into  it. 
It  has  a  beautifully  hard  socket,  bound  with  silk,  into 
which  it  fits  very  tightly,  while  the  outside  is  covered 
with  bits  of  moss  or  other  things  glued  on,  so  that  no 
one  can  possibly  detect  it.  The  only  way  of  opening  it 
from  without  is  by  a  pin,  but  even  then  I  have  often  seen 


40  TINY    WORLD. 

the  spider  keeping  tight  hold  of  the  hottom  of  the  door 
with  her  claws,  while  holding  on  to  the  walls  of  her  cell 
with  hei  whole  force. 

Here  the  little  architect  remains  all  day,  and  at  night 
spins  a  few  threads  among  the  grass  near  her  home,  io 
which  she  catches  her  prey  ;  but  she  also  hunts  for  food 
by  leaping  upon  beetles,  and  carrying  them  into  her  tunnel. 

So  attached  is  she  to  her  cellar,  that  I  have  often  cut 
the  nests  out  of  the  earth  and  'brought  them  away  in  my 
pocket  with  the  inhabitant  within ;  and  I  have  now 
before  me  a  row  of  these  nests,  all  with  their  doors 
fitting  exactly  alike.  I  once  cut  off  the  door  of  a  nest 
near  my  tent,  and  next  day  found  that  a  new  one  had 
already  been  hung  on  its  hinges. 

One  more  spider  I  should  like  to  say  a  word  upon, 
because  it  is  one  we  may  often  see  in  this  country,  and 
is  very  little  known.  It  is  the  water  spider.  It  has  a 
very  long  Latin  name,  Anjyroneta  aquatica — i.e.  the 
water  silver  spider,  and  it  is  very  interesting,  because,  as 
we  said  some  time  ago,  it  bottles  up  air  and  takes  it 
under  water  to  breathe  with.  In  fact,  had  people  only 
watched  water  spiders  as  Eobert  Bruce  watched  the 
cottage  spider,  diving-bells  would  have  been  discovered 
hundreds  of  years  ago,  and  people  might  have  learnt  how 
to  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  and  save  the  treasures  of 
wrecks. 

We  know  there  are  two  ways  in  which  divers  descend 
and  work  under  water.  One  is  by  the  diving-bell,  which 
is  like  a  great  bell  dropped  into  the  water,  so  that  the 


THE    SPIDER    AND    ITS   WEBS. 

air  cannot  escape;    the  other  is  by  a  diving  dress,  in 


THE    MASON    SP1D&K    AND    ITS    NEST. 


which  there  is  a  supply  of  air  inside  the  clothes  of  the 
diver.     The  spider  uses  both  these  methods. 


42  TINY   WORLD. 

It  lives  in  ditches  and  stagnant  pools,  near  the  hottom, 
and  weaves  a  strong  silken  cup  of  the  shape  of  a  bell, 
which  it  fastens  by  long  cords  stretched  on  all  sides  to 
the  stems  of  water-weeds,  and  which  is  filled  with  air. 
As  the  bag  is  always  kept  mouth  downwards  by  the 
cords,  the  air  cannot  escape ;  and  here  the  spider  lives 
and  deposits  its  eggs  in  little  capsules  or  bags,  where  its 
submarine  cradle  keeps  them  perfectly  safe.  Its  body 
is  covered  with  long  hairs,  and  these  hairs  hold  the 
atmosphere  all  round  it,  so  that  when  it  swims  lying  on 
its  back — which  is  its  regular  method  of  moving  about—- 
it looks  like  a  silvery  bubble  of  air.  It  often  comes  to 
the  surface  to  replenish  its  supply. 

The  walls  of  its  nest  are  very  thin,  composed  of  a 
tissue  of  fine  white  silk,  to  which  is  attached  quite  a 
fringe  of  threads  to  anchor  it  to  the  weeds.  Here  the 
spider  lives,  with  his  head  downwards,  ready  to  pounce 
upon  any  unwary  insect.  In  winter,  when  it  sleeps  for 
many  weeks  together,  it  weaves  a  flooring  to  its  nest  to 
secure  it  from  any  accidental  entrance  of  water. 

I  could  tell  of  many  other  wondrous  kinds  of  spiders' 
webs,  but  my  readers  will  see  from  the  few  here  men- 
tioned how  full  of  marvels  is  even  the  little  spider's 
world,  and  how  much  there  is  to  instruct  any  one  who 
would  rather  go  through  life  with  eyes  than  with  no 
eyes.  The  spider  will  teach  us  not  only  the  lesson  ol 
perseverance  which  Eobert  Bruce  learnt  when  he  was 
nearly  giving  way  to  despair — it  will  teach  us  how  to 
spin  and  how  to  weave,  how  to  hunt  and  how  to  snare. 


THE    SPIDER    AND    ITS    WEBS.  48 

It  gives  lessons  in  gymnastics,  in  swimming  and  in  leap- 
ing, and  it  has  solved  man£  a  problem  in  mathematics 
before  Euclid  was  born.  Look  at  the  spider's  web, 
and  see  whether  "  any  hand  of  man,  with  all  the  fine 
appliances  of  art,  and  twenty  years'  apprenticeship  to 
boot,  could  weave  us  such  another." 

It  is  remarkable  that  spiders'  web,  though  amongst  the 
finest,  is  also  one  of  the  strongest  substances.  ' 

A  bar  of  steel  an  inch  thick  will  bear .  a  weight  of 
nearly  sixty  tons  ;  but  it  is  said — on  good  authority,  too 
— that  a  rope  of  spiders'  silk  an  inch  thick,  would  bear 
up  a  weight  of  seventy-four  tons  ;  that  is  to  say,  it  is  a 
quarter  as  strong  again  as  the  bar  of  steel.  Whether 
this  is  positively  true  is  not  certain  ;  but  there  can  be  no 
doubt  whatever  that  a  thread  of  the  silk  TisWth  part  of 
an  inch  thick  will  bear  up  fifty-four  grains,  so  that  there 
is  no  reason  why  the  rope  should  not  bear  up  the 
seventy-four  tons. 

These  webs  are  so  tough  and  strong ;  why  don't  they 
make  some  use  of  them  ? 

Well,  one  reason  is  that  spiders  are  very  difficult  hands 
to  manage ;  they  have  a  disagreeable  habit  of  biting  and 
killing  one  another ;  and  when  compared  to  the  dull, 
quiet,  patient  silkworm,  are  not  pleasant  things  to  handle 
or  have  to  do  with.  But  the  attempt  has  been  made, 
and  not  only  have  large  numbers  of  spiders  been  brought 
together  into  a  nursery,  and  there  led  to  lay  eggs ;  but 
the  young  have  been  brought  up,  made  to  spin,  and  the 
silk  has  been  wound  off  and  woven. 


44  TINY    WORLD. 

The  female  spider  is  the  spinner,  and  tLe  utmost  thai 
ii;in  be  got  from  a  single  insect  is  about  150  yards, 
weighing  -^ila.  of  a  grain,  while  a  large  silkworm's  cocoon 
will  yield  800  yards,  weighing  3  grains. 

The  silk  is  of  two  colours,  silver-grey  and  golden,  and 
both  may  be  drawn  from  the  same  spider,  at  different 
points  of  her  spinning  organ,  and  of  two  different  kinds 
also. 

The  yellow  is  the  strongest  and  most  elastic,  and  after 
being  stretched  flies  back  again  to  its  old  length,  like  a 
thread  of  india-rubber  ;  while  the  silver  crinkles  up,  and 
is  apt  to  snap  if  stretched  too  hard.  But  both  kinds  are 
wanted  in  building  a  web ;  and  if  you  look  at  one  care- 
fully, you  will  see  with  what  skill  and  beauty  every  part 
is  arranged — one  kind  of  silk  for  the  strong  straight 
outer  edges,  and  the  other  for  the  swaying,  bending 
cross-beams. 

Although  a  silkworm  spins  but  one  cocoon,  and  is 
then  done  for,  a  spider,  after  yielding  150  yards,  has 
only  to  rest  for  a  few  days,  and  is  then  quite  ready  to 
have  150  yards  more  drawn  off;  and  so  on,  a  dozen  or 
fifteen  times  in  a  month. 

Dr.  Wilder,  a  very  wise  man,  who  has  been  studying 
spiders  for  years  past,  and  knows  more  about  them  than 
a  dozen  dictionaries,  says  that  all  his  apparatus  for  wind- 
ing oti  theii  silk  consisted  01  •*  two  large  corks,  a  bent 
hair-pin,  two  large  common  pins,  a  bit  ol  card,  and  a  bit 
of  lead."  All  I  can  tell  you  now  is,  that  the  doctor 
Miches  the  spider  between  his  linger  and  thumb,  so  that 


THE    SPIDER   AND    ITS    WEBS.  46 

two  legs  are  turned  back  out  of  the  way,  applies  his 
machine  in  the  right  fashion,  and  winds  away  as  easily 
and  smoothly  as  if  from  a  lifeless  cocoon. 

The  thread  of  a  single  spider  is  so  fine  that  it  cannot 
be  wound  off  alone  from  the  reel,  and  so  the  cunning 
doctor  arranges  a  large  number  of  spiders,  and  contrives 
to  wind  off  all  their  silks  together  in  one  thread. 

The  great  difficulty  is,  as  I  told  you,  to  prevent  the 
blood-thirsty  spinners  from  killing  and  devouring  each 
other.  Only  a  few  out  of  every  hundred  young  spiders, 
brought  up  together  in  one  web,  ever  escape  alive  to 
marry  and  set  up  housekeeping  and  separate  establish- 
ments for  themselves ;  and  a  hungry  wife  has  been 
known,  first  to  kiss  her  husband,  and  then  seize  on 
him  and  eat  him  up,  which,  as  she  is  100  times  as  big 
as  her  lord  and  master,  she  can  easily  manage. 

An,  ounce,  says  Dr.  Wilder,  is  437£  grains,  and  as 
each  spider  yields  one  grain,  it  will  take  about  450  to 
produce  a  yard  of  silk,  or  5,400  for  a  dress  of  twelve 
yards.  Each  silkworm  yields  about  two  and  a  quarter 
times  as  much  as  a  spider  of  one  season ;  so  that  we 
should  want  200  worms  for  a  yard  of  silk,  and  2,400  for 
a  dress. 

This  would  make  spiders'  silk  just  two  and  a  quarter 
times  as  dear  as  silkworms' ;  and  so,  for  the  present, 
Mary,  there  is  not  much  chance  of  our  having  drosses  of 
spiders'  spinning. 


BEES    AND    BEEHIVES. 


BEES   AND   BEEHIVES. 


PAET  I. 

Where  the  bee  sucks,  there  suck  I." 

The  bee  is  small  among  the  fowles,  yet  doth  its  fruit  pass 
in  sweetness." 


who  live  in  glass  houses  must  not  throw 
stones  ;  "  but  as  there  is  no  rule  without  exception, 
we  throw  it  out  as  a  suggestive  inquiry  to  any  of  our 
captious  young  friends,  whether  the  little  winged  dwellers 
in  glass  hives,  exemplary  in  all  the  relations  of  life,  and 
faultless  in  their  social  and  moral  qualities,  may  not  be 
privileged  to  have  a  fling  in  any  direction  ? 

"Not  at  me,  if  you  please,"  tartly  replies  our  wiry 
friend,  whose  indefatigable  industry  bears  testimony  to 
the  fact  that  he  learned  to  some  purpose  when  a  child  the 
infantine  ditty,  "How  doth  the  little  busy  bee,"  &c. 
"  Not  at  me,  if  you  please  ;  I  mind  my  own  business.  I 
am  up  early  and  late  ;  never  trouble  myself  with  other 


50  TINY    WORLD. 

people's  concerns,  and  no  one  can  accuse  me  of  idleness ; 
and  the  hoards  I  have  laid  up  against  hard  times  are  plain 
proof  th&t  I  gather  honey  all  the  day,  and  sometimes  half 
the  night  too." 

None  of  the  sweetest,  we  fear,  if  it  smacks  of  the  tone 
and  temper  wherewith  it  is  proclaimed.  It  may  some- 
times be  found  to  be  but  lost  labour  that  we  haste  to  rise 
up  early,  so  late  take  rest,  if  our  worldly  store  lack  the 
mellow  sweetness  of  an  abundance  culled  from  earthly 
flowers,  under  the  sunshine  of  a  heavenly  blessing, 
among  the  unselfish  fellowships  and  countless  charities  of 
life,  which  are  as  the  pleasant  hum  of  bees  in  the  sultry 
air  of  a  summer's  day  of  toil.  But  not  being  ourselves 
the  denizens  of  a  glass  house,  we  will  leave  that  stone  for 
our  winged  friends  to  fling. 

"  Not  at  me,  surely  not  at  me,"  cries  a  second,  with 
careless  confidence.  "I  was  never  out  of  temper  in  my 
life  ;  I  take  things  easy.  *  Live  and  let  live,'  '  Care  killed 
the  cat ; '  and  if  I  cannot  get  things  to  my  mind,  I  never 
fret ;  I  e'en  let  them  pass.  '  It  will  be  all  the  same  a 
hundred  years  hence,'  if  things  are  all  at  sixes  and  sevens 
now." 

Ah,  good  friend,  free  and  easy,  bathe  as  you  may  in  the 
waters  of  self- approval,  I  think  we  shall  yet  find  a 
vulnerable  point,  even  in  that  happy-go-lucky  style  cf 
yours.  What  work  will  you  ever  accomplish,  what  edifice 
rear,  that  will  not  bear  the  marks  of  such  careless  ease  ? 

In  the  hive  of  glass  it  is  all  sixes  and  no  sevens.  Very 
particular  gentlemen  are  these  builders  of  a  suitable 


"WHERE  THE  BEE  SUCKS. 


51 


BEES   AND   BEEHIVES.  68 

residence  and  storehouse  for  their  colony  and  thoir  queen 
Destitute  of  any  apparent  guide  of  measurement,  what 
need  have  they  of  inch  rule,  of  compass,  or  artificial 
hexagon  ?  The  eye,  the  mind — whatever  that  may  be  in 
the  insect  world — the  hand,  all  work  in  faultless  union, 
and  produce  a  result  as  marvellous  in  its  exact  proportions 
as  in  its  adaptability  to  the  several  needs  of  the  architect ; 
and  if,  in  the  material  fabric  of  their  city  walls,  there  be 
a  strength  and  adhesiveness  inseparable  from  a  degree  of 
bitterness  to  the  taste,  the  sweetness  fnd  'abundance 
of  the  store  within  those  walls  invite  us  to  leave  to  its 
winged  workers  the  task  of  flinging  this  stone  at  the 
slovenly  and  the  careless. 

"Not  at  me,"  sternly  ejaculates  a  third.  "I  am 
particularity  itself.  I  see  to  it  with  my  own  eyes,  and  if 
the  work  done  by  my  orders  is  the  thousandth  part  of  an 
inch  awry,  I  have  it  all  undone;  those  that  work  for  me 
must  make  straight  work  of  it,  and  look  sharp,  or  I  come 
down  upon  them  short  and  sharp." 

Sharper  truly  than  that  sting  for  which  the  colonists  of 
the  hive  find  no  such  use.  No  task-master  is  theirs,  no 
idle  hands,  no  careless  workers,  each  works  for  all,  and 
all  enjoy  the  fruit  of  the  labour  of  each.  Excepting  the 
royal  lady,  who,  engrossed  by  cares  maternal,  sits  apart 
in  the  spacious  chamber  constructed  for  her  by  her  loving 
subjects,  all  work  in  harmony.  Each  one  knows  his  task, 
and  though  man  knows  not  to  what  tribunal  of  conscience 
their  fidelity  may  be  referred,  or  by  what  meed  of  self- 
approbation  rewarded,  we  have  yet  to  hear  of  one 


54  TINY    WORLD. 

the  bees  who  will  bind  heavy  burdens  on  others  which 
he  refuses  to  touch  himself. 

So,  in  some  interval  of  leisure  from  their  more 
immediate  duties,  some  speculator  among  them  on  human 
systems  may  fling  this  stone  also. 

"Not  at  me,"  exclaims  number  four.  "I  work  as 
hard  as  any.  Example  as  well  as  precept  is  my  motto, 
and  I  carry  it  out,  and  never  tell  anybody  to  do  that  to 
which  I  am  unwilling  to  put  my  own  hand.  Gladly 


CELLS. 

1.  Ovum.  2.  Larva.  3  and  4.  Chrysalides.  5.  Pollen.  6.  Honey, 

should  I  take  a  little  relaxation,  or  breathe  a  breath  of 
fresh  air  now  and  then,  if  I  felt  it  consistent  with  my 
duties  to  others  to  enjoy  for  myself  what  I  deny  to  them." 
Then  go  to  the  bees,  thou  slave  to  the  desk  and  the 
wheel.  Where  would  be  the  sweetness  of  their  honey, 
ike  strength  of  their  wax,  the  buoyancy  of  wing,  and  that 
cheerful  hum — where  the  elasticity  and  health  of  their 


BEES    AND    BEEFIIVES.  55 

busy  insect  life — were  not  fresh  air  and  sunshine  a  part  of 
their  daily  life,  a  material  element  in  their  existence  ? 

Nay,  more,  the  first  hours  of  their  daily  round  of 
activity  are  spent  outside  the  hive ;  and  with  the  nectar 
or  the  flowers  they  imbibe  the  breath  of  early  morn  and 
the  first  freshness  of  reviving  nature.  The  day-spring  is 
to  them  truly  the  spring  of  the  day's  activities.  Their 
first  flight  is  upwards,  their  earliest  effort,  heavenward.' 

Those  pupils  of  nature's  instincts  return  to  their 
indoor  life  about  the  hoar  when  worn  and  exhausted  men 
and  women  creep  forth  from  their  imprisoned  life,  to 
breathe  the  noxious  dews  of  evening,  the  staleness  of  an 
atmosphere  from  which  the  vital  energy  of  sun  and 
oxygen"  have  been  withdrawn,  and  return  to  add  the 
fatigue  and  oppression  of  night  to  that  of  the  day  before 
resuming  the  diurnal  toil  in  the  narrow  hexagonal  cell  of 
their  daily  labour. 

Yes,  fling  that  stone  from  your  airy  height,  ye  happy 
living  things,  that  mount  on  the  morning  breeze  and  scent 
the  early  odours  of  the  dewy  flowers.  Ye  may  find  a 
vulnerable  point  in  many  a  son*  ami  daughter  of  leisure  as 
well  as  in  the  person  of  the  mechanic,  the  student,  or  the 
man  of  business. 

"  Not  at  me,  not  at  me,  for  I  hate  artificial  life  and  all 
that  belongs  to  it,"  gladly  exclaims  the  child  of  the 
country.  "  Give  me  the  simple  humming  bee  in  its  home 
in  the  wild  woods,  where  it  makes  honey  for  its  own 
wants  alone,  enough  for  its  family  requirements,  and 
never  invites  the  covetous  propensities  of  rapacious 


TINY    WORLD. 

man  to  stifle  their  young  lives  and  rob  their  winter 
store." 

Ah,  there  you  remind  us  of  the  best  that  can  yet  be 
said  of  these  faultless  creatures. 

No  useless  hermit  colony,  with  self  and  selves  for  the 
end  and  object  of  their  labours ;  they  never  stop  short 


HONEYCOMB. 

when  they  have  built  their  comb  and  gathered  honey  for 
themselves  alone.  As  the  summer  is  prolonged,  and  their 
sphere  is  enlarged,  so  are  their  efforts  expanded,  that 
other  beings,  often  their  most  cruel  enemies,  may  share 
the  sweet  results  of  their  toil. 


BEES    AND    BEEHIVES.  5? 

• 

Unspoilt  by  artificial  life,  and,  so  far  as  we  can  see, 
utterly  unchanged  in  their  simple  habits  and  lives  of 
active  usefulness  by  all  the  refinements  of  cultivation, 
the  bees  inhabiting  the  most  delicate  of  glass  hives  in  the 
loveliest  of  gardens  are  as  busy  as  the  bees  before  the  flood, 
as  united  in  their  action,  and  as  ready  to  quit  the  homes 
of  luxury  at  the  call  of  their  leader,  as  if  they  were  the 
first  bees  on  whom  the  necessities  of  exertion,  of  union, 
and  of  forethought  had  devolved.  Humbly  and  con- 
tentedly they  betake  themselves  to  the  rudest  shelter,  and 


*! 


SECTION    SHOWING    CELLS    OF    HONEYCOMB. 

seek  in  the  wildest  retreats  of  nature  as  in  the  richest 
garden  the  nectar  concealed  alike  under  the  simplest 
petals  and  the  fragrant  cluster. 

Too  active,  too  happy,  and  too  kindly  to  fling  a  stone 
metaphorically,  or  to  use  literally  their  sting  whilst 
unprovoked,  their  pleasant  humming  falls  on  our  ear  as 
one  of  those  soothing  sounds  in  nature,  like  the  plashing 
of  the  waterfall,  the  sough  of  the  wind  among  the  treei, 
or  the  music  of  the 


58  TINY    WORLD. 

' l  hidden  brook 
In  the  leafy  month  of  June, 
That  to  the  sleeping  woods  all  night 
Singeth  a  quiet  tune;  " 

which  harmonize  with    good  and   sacred   thoughts,   and 
suggest  alike  to  the  contemplative   and  the  active  mind 


THE    SWISS    HIVE. 


the  combination  of  their  respective  gifts  in  a  useful  yet 
not  thoughtless  existence. 

But  the  bee  was  not  born  to  hum  only,  it  only -hums 
to  beguile  its  work. 

Let  us  watch  the  little  tribes  as  they  pass  to  and  fro 


BEES   AND    BEEHIVES.  59 

from  their  hive  this  morning.  Fear  not  their  stings,  if 
we  stand  aside,  and  do  not  put  ourselves  in  the  way  of 
the  busy  citizens.  If  some  human  monster  will  obstruct 
their  passage,  and  come  between  them  and  their  store- 
house gate,  and  does  not  move  on  at  the  sound  of  an 
angry  buzz,  the  way  must  be  cleared,  even  at  the  expense 
of  an  occasional  sting.  So  let  us  keep  to  the  side,  and  they 
will  be  far  too  busy  to  turn  from  their  labours  to  examine, 
still  less  to  molest  us. 

First  of  all,  we  see  some  half-dozen  loitering  idly  about 
the  door. 

No,  not  idly,  for  see  how  they  scrutinize  each  fresh 
arrival,  as  if  to  say,  "  Have  you  brought  home  a  proper 
load  of  honey,  or  have  you  only  been  at  play  ?  " 

But  this  is  not  their  chief  duty. 

They  may  be  only  making  a  passing  salute,  inquiring 
of  their  returning  friends  the  state  of  the  weather,  or  the 
flower  crop,  whether  the  white  clover  is  plentiful,  or  the 
lime-trees  are  exuding  honey  well.  They  are  there  to 
warn  off  intruders. 

If  we  approach  too  near  in  front,  one  of  these  sentries 
will  dash  forward  with  an  angry  buzz ;  and  if  we  do 
not  wisely  take  the  hint,  the  brave  little  soldier  will  soon 
return  with  a  reinforcement  from  the  guard-room  to 
enforce  the  command.  Horses,  dogs,  and  other  animals 
understand  this  threatening  buzz  very  well,  and  soon 
retire.  But  their  smaller  foes  are  not  so  easily  repelled. 

The  sentinels  touch  with  their  antennae  every  creature 
that  tries  to  creep  in,  exactly  like  a  soldier  on  guard 


60  TINY   WORLD. 

demanding  the  pass-word.  Now  hornets,  wasps,  and 
moths,  who,  like  human  beings,  do  not  make  honey, 
have  a  very  sweet  tooth,  and  know  where  the  nectar  is 
stored.  They  often  try  to  pass  the  barrier,  and,  being 
individually  stronger  than  a  bee,  would  succeed,  were 
not  the  sentinel  speedily  reinforced.  We  may  often  see 
dead  wasps  laid  in  front  of  the  hive,  and  sometimes  can 


8TINO   AND    POISON-BAG    OF   WORKER-BEE. 

witness  a  pitched  battle,  though  the  intruder  is  generally 
driven  off,  and  seeks  safety  in  flight,  like  a  robber  with  a 
bad  conscience. 

When  the  guard  is  relieved  at  night,  the  doo'r  is  often 
barricaded  with  a  wall  of  propolis  and  wax,  to  keep  out 
the  night-flying  moths. 


BEES    AND    BEEHIVES.  61 

But  the  bees  who  are  passing  and  repassing  the  sen- 
tries are  not  all  laden  alike.  Some  of  them  have  little 
yellow  or  red  tufts  on  their  legs,  others  have  noue.  But 
all  who  return  are  laden. 

There  are  three  substances  required  in  the  hive — 
pollen,  or  bee-bread,  the  food  of  the  youngest  larvae ; 
wax  to  make  the  combs ;  and  honey  for  the  support  of 
the  community.  Those  with  tufts  on  their  legs  have 


THE    WORK  El!    AT    \\OUK. 

been  collecting  the  pollen  from  the  stamina  of  flowers, 
which  they  carry  worked  into  lumps,  and  retained  by 
the  hairs  on  their  hind-legs.  The  -purveyors  of  honey 
and  wax  carry  their  stores,  drawn  from  the  nectar  of 
flowers  and  the  sweet  juices  of  trees,  in  their  throats. 

To  understand  how  the  pollen  is  carried,  we  should 
examine  the  hind-leg  with  a  microscope.  We  shall  then 
%ee  that  the  upper  joint  is  flattened,  and  its  edges  sur- 


62  TINY    WORLD. 

rounded  with  stiff  hairs,  which  form  a  sort  of  basket, 
into  which  the  powder  is  put  by  the  action  of  a  sort  of. 
brush  of  short  hairs  which  cover  the  lower  joint. 

When  the  bee  enters  a  flower,  it  takes  a  plunge  among 
the  pollen  covering  its  whole  body,  and  then  brushes 
itself  down  into  the  basket  on  its  thigh,  till  a  good-sized 


TONGUE    OF    WORKKR-HEE. 


ball  is  formed.  If  it  cannot  complete  its  load  in  on* 
flower,  it  will  always  seek  out  another  of  the  same  kind ; 
but  never  on  any  account  will  it  mix  the  pollen  of  two 
different  kinds  of  flowers,  unless  by  accident.  Thus  w« 
always  see  the  ball  of  a  uniform  colour,  red,  yellow,  and 
white  pollen  being  never  mixed. 


BEES   AND   BEEHIVES.  '  63 

When  the  pollen-bearer  has  entered  the  hive,  it  pushes 
its  burden  into  a  cell,  and  another  bee  follows,  and 
kneads  up  the  mass  with  its  jaws,  packing  it  tightly 
down. 

The  honey-gatherers  and  the  wax-gatherers — for  these 
are  really  the  same — draw  in  the  juices  from  the  flowers 
by  their  trunk,  which  serves  as  a  mouth  and  a  pump, 
through  which  the  liquid  passes  into  the  first  stomach, 
and  thus  is  carried  to  the  hive.  But  often  the  labourer 
does  not  wait  to  disgorge  itself  into  the  cell,  but,  on 
arriving  at  the  door,  opens  its  throat,  when  another  bee, 
perhaps  one  more  aged  and  feeble,  and  less  capable  of 
field  work,  though  perfectly  fit  for  domestic  toil  at  home, 
receives  the  sweet  load  and  discharges  it  into  the  store- 
house. 

Of  course  the  workers  feed  themselves  while  they  are 
out,  and  often  give  a  supply  to  their  friends  by  the  way. 
They  also  feed  those  employed  on  the  combs  by  going  to 
the  place  where  they  are  working  and  stretching  out 
their  trunks.  The  other  bee  inserts  the  end  of  its  trunk, 
and  sucks  up  the  offered  honey  without  having  to  leave 
its  work. 

But  how  is  the  wax  supplied  ? 

This  was  long  a  problem,  till  it  was  discovered  that 
wax  was  a  secretion,  or  rather  an  exudation  formed  in 
very  thin  layers  between  the  plates  of  the  abdomen  of 
bees.  That  it  is  in  some  way  made  from  honey  Huber 
ascertained,  because  bees  fed  only  on  pollen  did  not 
secrete  it,  and  those  fed  on  honey  or  syrup  did  so. 


BEES  AND   BEEHIVES. 


PART  II. 

LET  us  now  follow  the  workers  inside  the  hive.  And 
here,  if  we  have  not  got  a  glass  hive  through  which 
to  watch,  we  must  be  content  with  a  peep  by  the  eyes 
of  others. 

Just  beyond  the  sentries  are  stationed  those  who 
relieve  the  purveyors  from  the  field.  Others  are  busy 
in  cleaning  and  sweeping  out  the  bottom  of  the  hive, 
others  in  storing  honey  or  bee-bread,  more  still  in  form- 
ing new  combs,  and  many  others  in  tending  and  feeding 
the  young  larvae  in  the  breeding-cells,  or  waiting  on  the 
queen.  For  all  these  working  bees,  industrious  though 
they  be  as  labourers,  assiduous  as  nurses,  are  toiling 
not  for  their  own — for  they  never  are  either  fathers  or 
mothers — but  for  their  brothers  and  sisters. 

As  with  the  wasps,  so  anion^  bees,  there  are  three 
sexes — the  drones,  or  males,  who  are  only  hutched  in 


BEES    AND    BEEHIVES.  65 

summer,  and  neither  work  nor  sting ;  the  queen,  of 
whom  there  is  only  one  at  a  time  in  each  common- 
wealth ;  and  the  mass  of  the  community,  or  workers, 
who  are  in  reality  females  stunted  in  their  growth,  and 
differently  fed  and  housed  in  their  infancy.  So  far  they 
resemble  other  hymenopterous  insects,  as  the  ants  and 
wasps,  of  whom  we  shall  talk  elsewhere  ;  *  but  in  the 
origin  and  government  of  the  little  commonwealth,  which 


DRONE,    QTEEX,    AND    WORKER. 

each  hive  in  reality  is,  they  differ  much  from  their 
nearest  cousins  the  wasps. 

The  female,  or  queen  bee,  is  far  less  active  than  the 
queen  wasp.  Very  few  people  not  bee  students  have  ever 
seen  a  queen  bee. 

Unlike  the  lady  of  the  yellow  bands,  she  takes  no 
share  in  the  founding  of  a  new  colony.  She  never 
works  from  the  day  of  her  birth  to  her  death.  She  is 
worshipped  like  an  Eastern  potentate,  in  the  strictest 

*    See  pages  85  and  177. 
F 


66  TINY    WOULD. 

seclusion,  indulged  and  petted,  instead  of  going  forth 
with  the  first  warm  rays  of  a  spring  morning,  like  some 
hardy  Norseman  of  old,  to  found  new  colonies,  and  lay 
the  foundations  of  a  busy  city. 

Nor  is  she  to  be  blamed  for  this.  Her  form  and 
nature  forbid  the  effort.  Though  her  body  is  twice  the 
size  of  that  of  a  working  bee,  her  wings,  unlike  those 
of  a  wasp,  are  very  short,  and  can  only  bear  her  up 
for  a  little  time  with  great  effort,  .while  her  abdomen 
is  far  too  heavy  to  enable  her  to  move  about  with 
ease. 

But  how,  then,  is  a  new  colony  to  be  founded? 

Here  comes  in  a  wise  provision  of  Nature's  God  to 
meet  the  case  of  the  bees.  They  build  no  houses  for 
themselves.  The  time  which  the  wasp  must  devote  to 
the  preparing,  fortifying,  and  enlarging  of  the  walls  of 
its  house,  the  bee,  relieved  of  this  labour,  expends  on 
the  collection  and  preparation  of  food  for  the  winter. 
The  one  perishes  with  the  early  frost ;  the  others, 
huddled  together,  and  securing  warmth  by  their  crowded 
numbers,  are  ready  to  recommence  their  labours  with 
the  opening  of  the  first  crocus  of  spring. 

In  a  state  of  nature  the  bees  find  hives  in  clefts  of  the 
rocks,  in  hollow  trees,  and  sometimes  in  holes  in  a  dry 
sandy  bank.  There  they  find  dwellings  reaily  made  to 
hand,  and  quite  as  convenient  as  the  most  comfortable 
straw  hive  or  the  most  neatly-finished  wooden  box  which 
their  owners  provide  for  them  in  servitude,  though  not 
in  captivity.  We  see  how  bee-nature  remains  the  same 


BEES    AND    BEEHIVES.  67 

through  all  generations,  how  the  new  swarm  will  get 
into  a  chimney,  a  hole  in  a  wall,  the  eaves  of  a  house, 
or  under  the  thatch,  the  hereditary  instinct  having  never 
been  lost,  through  thousands  of  generations  of  hive- 
homes. 

Still  the  bee  has  no  strong  prejudices,  and  when  the 
bee-keeper  has  provided  a  comfortable  hive,  and  smeared 


STRAW    AND    GLASS    HIVE. 

it  well  with  sweet  syrup,  the  queen,  if  once  she  has 
dropped  into  her  quarters  and  found  them  warm  and 
sweet,  is  not  disposed  to  assert  her  right  to  choose  her 
own  residence,  but  settles  down  at  once,  the  monarch  of 
all  she  surveys  within. 

In  many  respects  the  hives  which  man  provides  suit 


68 


TINY    WORLD. 


the  bee  taste  better  than  most  of  the  homes  they  could 
find  for  themselves.  In  the  first  place  the  bee  likes 
neatness  and  symmetry,  and  the  combs  can  be  formed 
more  evenly  and  regularly  than  in  a  shapeless  hole. 
Then  the  holes  in  the  rocks  have  often  large  openings, 
which  it  is  very  difficult  to  build  up  sufficiently  to  prevent 
the  intrusion  of  many  unwelcome  visitors. 


WOODEX    HIVE. 


Experience,  too,  has  taught  men  in  different  countries 
to  provide  hives  suited  to  the  climate. 

The  English  straw  hive  is  made  for  warmth,  and  is 
well  thatched  with  an  extra  covering  in  winter,  to  pre- 
vent the  frost  benumbing  the  little  prisoners.  I  do  not 
think  the  bees  like  the  wooden  hbes  so  well  as  the  old- 


BEES   AND   BEEHIVES.  09 

fashioned  straw  ones,  unless  they  are  double-cased,  and 
very  well  sheltered,  for  they  are  much  colder.  But 
they  have  no  objection  to  a  wooden  box  to  work  in  in 
summer,  with  a  thatched  house  above  it,  to  which 
the  whole  family  retire  when  the  summer  season  is 
over. 

In  North  Africa,  where  warmth  is  not  required,  and 
where  the  bees  are  in  fact  wild,  and  allowed  to  roam 
and  choose  for  themselves,  the  Arabs  hang  up  in  the 
trees  rolls  of  cork  hark  with  a  cork  lid,  and  quite  open 
at  the  bottom. 

The  bees  have  the  instinct  readily  to  choose  these, 
because  they  are  safe  from  prowling  intruders,  who, 
unless  they  are  winged,  cannot  get  into  the  hive,  which 
is  suspended  from  a  bough ;  while  if  any  winged  thief 
attempt  to  fly  in  at  the  bottom,  there  is  an  army  of 
defenders  ready  to  dash  down  upon  him,  and  give  him 
a  lesson  in  honesty.  Thus  I  have  seen  an  incautious 
bird,  which  has  earned  its  name  of  bee-eater  from  its 
partiality  for  devouring  bees  and  wasps,  skimming  like  a 
swallow  and  snapping  up  the  workers  as  they  returned 
heavy-laden  with  sweets,  till  at  length,  hovering  too 
closely  under  the  hive,  a  myriad  of  indignant  soldiers 
dashed  out  together,  and  whether  they  stung  him  or 
not  I  cannot  say,  but  he  soon  sheered  off  thoroughly 
humiliated,  and  came  back  no  more. 

These  cork  hives  are  also  cool,  so  that  the  combs  do 
not  melt  under  the  shade  of  the  tree  in  summer,  though 
they  keep  oat  the  winter  rains. 


70  TINY   WORLD. 

In  Palestine,  where  the  climate  is  still  hotter,  the  bee- 
keepers have  devised  a  yet  cooler  fashion  of  hive.  They 
make  a  large  pipe  or  cylinder  of  clay,  about  two  feet 
in  diameter,  and  more  than  a  yard  long,  open  at  the 
ends.  They  smear  it  inside  with  honey,  and  when 
they  have  shaken  the  swarm  into  it,  they  lay  it  flat  on 
the  ground,  and  plaster  up  each  end  with  clay,  leaving 
only  small  front  and  back  doors,  into  which  no  mouse 
can  creep. 

They  generally  heap  about  twenty- one  of  these  hives 
in  the  shape  of  a  pyramid  (for  they  keep  vast  numbers 
of  bees)  in  a  tier  of  six  at  the  bottom,  diminishing  by 
one  each  row.  The  whole  are  then  plastered  over  with 
earth  and  clay,  and  as  they  stand  in  the  yard  look  very 
like  a  hen-house.  At  both  ends  are  stuck  up  a  number 
of  boughs,  the  more  prickly  the  better,  for  the  double 
purpose  of  assisting  the  laden  bees  to  alight,  and  of 
protecting  the  entrance  and  the  neighbourhood  from 
"  bee-eaters,"  winged  or  creeping ;  for  lizards  as  well 
as  birds  are  among  their  enemies  there. 

When  summer  is  nearly  over,  the  Syrian  bee-master 
begins  to  help  himself.  This  he  does  on  the  principle 
of  "live  and  let  live."  With  face  and  hands  well 
muffled,  he  removes  the  clay  from  one  end  of  the  tube, 
and  with  an  iron  hook  pulls  out  the  combs  one  by  one, 
handling  them  carefully,  as  the  hook  detaches  them  from 
the  top  of  the  hive.  If  there  are  any  young  or  bee-bread, 
he  carefully  cuts  off  that  portion  of  the  comb  and  replaces 
it  in  an  upright  position.  He  takes  care  to  leave 


BEES   AND    BEEHIVES.  71 

honey  for  the  winter  store,  only  removing  the  combs  at 
one  end.  The  next  year  he  opens  the  other  end,  so 
that  the  bees  are  compelled  to  renew  them  every  two 
years,  and  they  never  become  clogged,  as  in  onr  old 
hives,  with  the  cast-off  skins  of  larvae  tiN  they  are  too 
small  for  use. 

These  bees  must  have  the  bnmp  of  locality  largely 
developed,  for  though  I  have  seen  a  pyramid  of  seventy- 
eight  hives,  I  never  noticed  the  busy  bees  at  a  loss  to  find 
their  own.  Lighting  on  the  bushes  every  minute  in 
swarms,  each,  after  a  minute's  pause,  went  direct  to  its 
own  home,  though  there  was  as  little  to  distinguish  one 
from  another  as  in  the  rows  of  houses  in  some  new 
suburban  street. 

In  tropical  countries,  again,  as  in  India,  there  are  bee* 
which  dispense  with  hives  altogether,  and  which  hang 
their  combs  openly  under  projecting  ledges  of  rock, 
generally  in  the  deep  ravines  of  rivers,  where  they  are 
secure  from  all  enemies  except  winged  ones,  and  these 
we  must  suppose  they  manage  to  keep  off  by  a  large 
standing  army,  for  the  soldiers  must  be  increased  in 
proportion  as  the  position  is  exposed. 

But  how  is  the  colony  formed  ?  How  is  a  new  kingdom 
established  ? 

Here  the  natural  increase  of  *,he  population  acts  along 
with  the  instinct  of  the  queen  No  queen  can  endure  a 
rival  near  her  throne,  but  the  working  bees,  careful  to 
provide  against  accidents,  and  maintaining  that  "the 
king  never  dies/'  take  care  each  spring  to  rear  a  lew 


72  TINY   WORLD. 

female  eggs  in  cells  on  the  edges  of  the  comb,  very  solid 
and  much  larger  than  the  others,  and  to  feed  the  larva 
in  these  cells  with  food  different  from  that  supplied  to  the 
workers,  being  heavier  and  sweeter.  This  alone,  along 
with  the  greater  space  of  the  cell,  is  enough  to  form  a 
queen  instead  of  a  worker. 

When  the  queen  larvae  are  nearly  ready  to  leave  their 
cells,  they  make  a  peculiar  noise,  which  very  much 
disturbs  the  peace  of  mind  of  the  reigning  queen.  She 
rushes  over  the  combs  in  a  fury,  endeavouring  to  tear 
the  young  queens  out  of  their  cells  ;  but  each  is  guarded 
by  a  body  of  workers,  who,  at  other  times  so  respectful 
to  their  monarch,  now  venture  firmly  to  resist  her. 

This  is  more  than  any  lady,  accustomed  always  to 
have  her  own  way,  can  endure.  She  rushes  about 
distracted,  and  even  frenzied;  drops  eggs  anywhere, 
regardless  of  the  use  of  waxen  cells ;  and  runs  over  the 
bodies  of  the  workers,  as  they  cluster  on  the  combs. 
None  so  mean  to  do  her  reverence — none  draw  aside  and 
stand  respectfully  in  file  on  either  side  as  she  passes, 
after  their  ordinary  habit — she  has  lost  her  guard  of 
honour,  and  is  indeed  a  deposed  sovereign  in  her  own 
palace. 

But  though  her  subjects  seem  for  the  moment  to  be 
rebellious,  it  is  rather  a  panic  than  a  conspiracy  which 
has  seized  the  community.  They  so  far  forget  themselves 
as  to  strike  their  royal  lady — she  so  far  descends  Crom 
her  dignity  as  to  run  a  Malay  muck,  striking  every  one 
she  meets.  This  only  aggravates  the  tumult.  Every 


BEES    AND    BEEHIVES. 


78 


worker,  as  it  returns  laden  from  the  field,  is  seized  with 
the  excitement,  and  runs  about  with  pollen  on  its  legs  or 
honey  in  its  stomach,  never  thinking  of  depositing  its 
burden,  but,  smitten  by  the  epidemic  of  confusion,  joins 
the  general  scramble. 


8WAKM    Oi'    BEES. 

At  length  the  queen  finds  her  way  to  the  door,  and 
rushes  forth  to  cool  her  fury  in  the  open  air.  It  is 
only  the  second  time  in  her  life  that  she  has  ever  left 
her  palace.  But  now  it'  is  for  ever.  But  she  is  not 
alone.  She  finds  thousands  of  her  subjects  still  devoted 
to  her,  chiefly  the  elder  and  more  experienced,  who 


74  TINT    WOELD. 

prefer  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  their  self-expatriated 
sovereign  rather  than  run  the  risks  of  republican  anarchy 
in  their  native  hive. 

One  breath  of  fresh  air  seems  enough  to  calm  their 
ruffled  spirits.  The  queen  cannot  fly  far,  and,  following 
the  guidance  and  example  of  some  of  her  devoted  atten- 
dants, she  settles  on  a  branch  or  in  a  cavity  of  a  tree, 
rock,  or  building.  The  swarm  collects  around  her.  That 
extraordinary  cluster  is  formed  of  one  row  of  insects 
hanging  on,  with  another  and  another  suspended  by 
their  fore-legs  hooked  in  the  extremities  of  the  hinder 
legs  of  those  above  them,  till  the  first  rows  have  to 
bear  a  weight  a  hundred  times  that  of  their  own  body. 

When  the  cluster  has  been  shaken  into  the  hive 
provided  by  their  owner,  if  only  the  queen  have  been 
enclosed  with  the  others,  without  the  delay  of  an  hour 
they  betake  themselves  to  form  combs  and  to  arrange  the 
furniture  of  their  colony,  evidently  feeling  that,  so  long 
as  they  have  their  queen  with  them,  they  are  no  exiles. 
They  can  quit  their  country,  but  not  their  allegiance. 
If,  however,  they  find  that  too  many  have  left  their  old 
home,  and  that  the  swarm  is  needlessly  large,  ft  portion 
will  return  in  two  or  three  houra. 


BEES  AND   BEEHIVES. 


PART  III. 

BUT  now,  supposing  we  have  them  safely  encased  in 
their  empty  hive,  how  are  they  to  go  to  work  ? 

The  old  queen  has  many  eggs  to  la,y,  and  these  must 
not  be  wasted.  There  is  no  time  to  lose,  and  combs 
must  at  once  be  found.  Here  comes  into  play  the  most 
marvellous  part  of  the  bees'  constructive  instinct.  The 
workers  who  have  fed  themselves  on  honey  attach  them- 
selves in  a  row  by  their  fore-legs  to  the  hive,  and  hang 
motionless,  while  others  hook  themselves  on  to  their  hind- 
legs  by  their  own  fore -legs,  and  others  again  hang  on  to 
them,  till  a  long  chain  is  formed,  and  looped  up  by  the 
different  chains  joining  at  the  bottom.  Thus  they  all 
patiently  wait,  till  they  have  secreted  plates  of  wax 
between  the  scales  of  their  abdomen. 

As  soon  as  a  bee  finds  it  has  a  plate  of  wax  ready,  it 
leaves  its  place  in  the  ranks,  takes  the  wax  between  its 


76 


TIXY    WORLD. 


mandibles,  kneads  it,  and  fixes  it  to  the  top  of  the  hive. 
This  done,  it  at  once  goes  off  to  the  fields  for  a  fresh 
supply  of  honey.  Others  follow  with  their  wax;  and 
when  there  is  a  sufficient  quantity  deposited  to  work 
with,  the  masons  come  forward,  hollow  out  the  shapeless 


FF.STOOX    OF    AVAX-WORKERS. 

lumps,  and   mould  the  bottom  of  the  first  cells.     Fresh 
supplies  are  brought,  and  soon  the  comb/  begins  to  take 
its  shape;  the  .hexagonal  cells,  of  the  thinnest  possible 
consistency,  being  all  laid  horizontally,  back  to  back. 
While  gome  are  extending  the  foundation  of  the  comb 


BEES    AND    BEEHIVES. 


77 


right  across  the  hive — for  bees  always  lay  their  founda- 
tions at  the  top  and  work  downwards — more  wax  pro- 
ducers are  adding  little  lumps  of  wax,  like  masons' 
labourers  bringing  materials  for  the  comb-builders,  whc 


COMMENCEMENT    OF    COMB. 


without  rule  or  compass  fit  all  with  the  most  minute 
exactness,  and  the  work  proceeds  with  wondrous  rapidity, 
several  thousand  cells  being  sometimes  formed  in  a  day. 
One  set  of  bees  shape  out  the  bottom  of  the  cells,  roughly 
moulding  the  six  sides.  Others,  whom  we  may  call 
finishers,  succeed  them,  and  beat  out  the  wax  with  their 


AX    EGG    MAGNIFIED. 


mandibles  till    it   is  as   thin  as   tissue-paper,   and    plane 
down  all  the  roughnesses. 

In  a  day  or  two  there  is  accommodation  provided  for 
the  eggs  which  are  the  hope  of  the  colony,  and  pollen 


78  TINY    WOBU>. 

and  honey  are  being  collected  for  their  support  so  soon 
as  they  hatch,  which  is  in  about  seven  or  eight  days  after. 

But  the  cells  are  not  all  of  the  same  size.  About  a 
tenth  of  them  are  larger  than  the  others,  though  of  the 
same  shape.  These  are  for  the  drones  or  males,  and 
it  is  strange  that  tne  instinct  of- the  queen,  who  creeps 
over  the  comb  attended  by  her  servants,  and  lays  an  egg 
in  each  cell,  knows  at  once  the  difference  between  a 
male  and  a  female  egg,  and  drops  each  into  its  place. 
But  the  eggs  of  the  queen  in  no  way  differ  from  those 
of  the  workers.  It  is  not  till  the  swarm  has  been  housed 
for  a  week,  that  the  bees  build  a  few  thick  circular  cells 
projecting  from  the  edges  of  the  comb,  to  receive  eggs 
which  are  to  be  royally  reared,  so  as  to  provide  against 
any  calamity  befalling  the  reigning  sovereign.  It  is  a 
large  hive  which  contains  twenty  of  these  cells,  and  the 
queen  only  drops  an  egg  into  them  at  intervals,  lest  too 
many  claimants  should  emerge  at  once. 

But  let  us  now  return  to  the  old  hive,  and  see  what 
has  taken  place  there  since  the  departure  of  the  old  queen 
on  her  voyage  of  discovery. 

The  young  queens  whose  threatened  advent  so  alarmed 
her,  have  not  yet  left  their  nursery.  Nor  will  the  nurses 
who  so  courageously  defended  their  charge  allow  them 
to  do  so  yet.  As  they  break  through  their  waxen  lids 
they  build  it  up  again,  but  pass  a  little  honey  through  an 
opening,  to  keep  the  young  lady  quiet  till  they  see  fit  to 
let  her  come  forth. 

No  sooner  has  she  emerged,  than,  like  some  Eastern 


BEES  AND    BEEHIVES.  79 

potentate,  she  inaugurates  the  new  reign  by-  searching 
out  and  slaying  her  nearest  relations,  rushing  from  one 
queenly  cell  to  another,  and  trying  to  kill  the  imprisoned 
inmate.  The  nnrses  vigorously  resist,  and  if  the  hive 
has  increased  sufficiently  to  cast  off  a  second  swarm  she 
is  allowed  to  follow  the  example  of  her  mother,  and  lead 
forth  another  party  of  emigrants.  If  not,  she  is  permitted 
to  glut  her  jealousy  on  those  furthest  advanced  towards 
maturity.  She  tears  open  the  cell,  and  at  once  stings 
the  helpless  prisoner.  As  soon  as  she  has  gone  in 
search  of  another  victim,  the  workers  also  enter  the  cell, 
and  drag  out  the  carcase  of  her  slain  rival. 

When  all  are  slain,  the  queen  remains  quiet,  and 
devotes  the  rest  of  the  season,  till  the  approach  of 
winter,  to  the  laying  of  eggs,  at  the  rate  of  200  a  day. 
But  in  a  month  or  two  a  new  massacre  begins. 

At  the  approach  of  autumn,  economy  becomes  the 
cry.  There  must  be  no  eaters  who  are  not  workers, 
and  the  helpless,  stingless  males,  whose  work  is  done, 
have  to  be  got  rid  of.  The  drones  are  pursued  from 
one  part  of  the  hive  to  another,  set  upon  by  the 
workers,  and  stung  to  death.  Their  carcases  may  then 
be  seen  strewn  by  hundreds  on  the  grc\ind  near  the 
hives,  where  they  have  been  dragged  out  and  dropped. 
Not  even  the  larvae  or  pup®  of  the  drones  escape.  The 
cells  are  torn  open,  the  young  ones  pierced,  their  juices 
sucked,  and  the  bodies  thrown  out.  It  is  only  if  any 
accident  has  happened  to  the  queen,  and  the  nurses  are 
carefully  rearing  some  half  a  dozen  in  royal  cells,  front 


80  TINY   WORLD. 

whom  to  choose  a  successor,  tiaat  the  drone  pupae  a** 
allowed  to  live. 

If  a  queen  perish  or  is  lost,  and  there  are  no  royal 
cells,  or  none  with  eggs  in  them,  the  workers  at  once 
build  several  proper  cradle?  and  remove  some  o/  the 
newest  laid  female  eggs  into  them  to  be  reared  for  the 
throne.  -  The  moment  the  first  hatched  comes  forth,  she 
is  at  once  surrounded  by  crowds  of  courtiers,  who  brush 
her,  lick  her,  serve  her  with  honey,  and  attend  her  every 
movement,  while  all  stand  aside  respectfully  in  file  as  she 
passes  to  and  fro. 

Such  is  bee  life.  And  who  can  throw  a  stone  at 
either  its  policy,  its  industry,  or  its  architecture  ?  Yet 
these  busy  insects  are  not  toiling  for  themselves  alone. 
Their  labour  is  consciously  for  the  community,  uncon- 
sciously for  us  also.  The  supply  they  store  in  summer 
is  far  more  than  is  needed  for  their  own  wants.  Why, 
then,  should  we  not  be  content  with  a  share,  and  leave 
the  hive  to  work  for  us  another  year  ? 

We  all  laugh  at  the  man  who  killed  the  goose  that 
laid  the  golden  eggs.  Yet  this  is  exactly  what  too  many 
beekeepers  do  in  England.  Instead  of  levying  a  tax  on 
all  their  hives,  they  leave  some  untouched,  and  destroy 
the  heaviest  and  the  best  worked  by  suffocation.  This 
is  one  reason  why  we  have  so  few  bees  compared  with- 
most  foreign  nations.  To  smoke  their  bees  is  a  barbarism 
which  would  horrify  the  Syrian  or  the  Greek. 

It  is  very  easy  to  get  the  honjey  without  killing  a 
bee,  or  running  the  risk  of  a  Bting.  Seventy  years  ago 


BEES   AND   BEEHIVES.  81 

it  was  discovered  that  the  smoke  of  powdered  puff  balls 
lighted  under  the  hive  will  stupify  the  whole  swarm 
for  some  minutes,  so  that  the  hive  can  be  examined, 
and  the  combs  with  virgin  honey  cut  out,  the  pieces  with 
young  bees  and  pollen  being  left  or  replaced.  The  same 
effect  is  just  as  easily  and  safely  produced  by  chloroform; 
and  the  bees  recover  without  any  injury  so  long  as  they 
have  not  been  too  long  exposed  to  it. 

Let  us  hope  ere  long  bee-keepers  will  learn  to  combine 
humanity  with  profit,  and  will  as  soon  think  of  smoking 
bees  as  of  burning  their  hayricks. 


WASPS   AJO)    PAPER-MAEINQ 


WASPS  AND  PAPEB-MAKING. 


PART  I. 

U  or  I,  fair  damsel  ?  you  or  I  ?  For  which  of 
us  is  that  sweet  fruit  ripening  in  the  summer  sun  ? 
Day  after  day  you  come  before  any  one  else  is  awake, 
and  gaze  upon  it,  and  as  you  watch  its  delicate  hue 
mellowing  into  the  rich  colouring  of  its  perfection,  you 
say  to  yourself,  '  To-morrow  !  to-morrow  I  will  pluck 
it.'  But  you  shall  find  to  your  cost  that  one  has  been 
there  before  you.  Look  to  it,  for  I  am  armed,  and,  once 
in  possession,  I  know  how  to  hold  my  own.  Let  every 
one,  man  or  insect,  look  out  for  himself." 

Thus  hummed  and  buzzed  to  himself  in  selfish 
soliloquy,  a  brilliant  black  and  golden  insect,  hovering 
near  the  garden  wall  ;  now  wheeling  in-  airy  circles, 
greatly  to  the  terror  of  the  gentle  child  who  attempted 
to  approach  the  tree  ;  and  now  settling  on  the  luscious 
fruit  to  thrust  in  his  proboscis,  for  the  purpose  of  making 


B6  TINY   WORLD. 

his  temporary  abode  inside  the  mellow  peach,  so  soon 
as  it  appeared  to  his  fastidious  senses  to  be  sufficiently 
ripe  for  the  attack  to  be  made.  Sorely  terrified  was 
the  little  girl,  who,  standing  on  tiptoe,  just  ventured 
hastily  to  touch  the  fruit,  and  thought,  "  To-morrow ! 

to-morrow  it  will  be  quite  ripe,  and  then Oh,  dear 

poor  Janie  !  and  then —         Oh,  how  she  will  like  it !  " 

To-morrow  !     To-morrow !     Alas  !    to-morrow    brings 
with  it  many  unlooked-for  disappointments ;  and  yet  how 
strangely  mixed   sometimes  with   the   signs  of  a  worse 
evil  averted !     The  wasp  had  its 
work  pet  him  by  his  own  greedy 
nature,  and  ensconced  at  length 
in  a    cavity  scooped   out  by  his 
own  exertions  in  the  side  of  the 
peach,    settled    himself    in    con- 
WASP  AND  FRUIT.          scious    security,    armed,     as    he 
thought,    against    all    intruders, 

and  feasting  on  the  luscious  dainty  so  long  coveted  by 
him.  Did  any  relentings  beset  him,  as  to'  the  sting  he 
was  preparing  for  those  fairy  fingers,  when  they  should 
be  extended  to  pluck  his  dainty  morsel  ?  Could  he  not 
have  wished  ft  were  some  selfish  greedy  creature  like  him- 
self? perhaps  some  tyrannical  schoolboy,  at  home  for 
the  holidays,  full  of  the  conviction  so  common  among 
boys,  that  all  good  things  ought  to  go  but  one  road,  or 
at  most  two,  into  their  own  pocket,  or  down  their  throat ; 
and  that  but  one  crime  exists  in  the  world — that  of 
depriving  them  thereof. 


WASPS   AND   PAPER-MAKING.  87 

Whether  or  not  the  actual  turn  in  the  tide  of  affairs 
was  any  real  satisfaction  to  the  moral  sense  of  the  insect, 
it  will  doubtless  be  so  to  us,  as  we  turn  at  the  sound 
of  rapid  footsteps,  not  lightly  tripping  as  we  expected, 
but  heavily  pounding  the  gravel-walk,  and,  rushing  up 
to  the  tree  in  hot  haste,  we  recognise  the  identical  being 
of  our  imagination.  No,  we  will  not  wrong  the  British 
schoolboy ;  it  is  the  spoilt  child  of  a  foolish  home,  who,, 
having  heard  of  his  sister's  secret  and  loving  longings 
to  carry  the  peach,  as  soon  as  it  should  be  ripe,  to  the 
bedside  -of  her  suffering  friend,  resolved  to  be  before- 
hand with  her,  and  secure  the  fruit  for  his  private 
eating. 

Who  can  pity  him  ?  Who  does  not  rejoice,  and  cry 
out,  "Served  him  right?"  4<  Glad  it  was  he  who  got 
stung." 

Yes ;  listen  to  liim,  how  he  yells !  See  how  he 
dances  about,  flings  his  fingers  from  him,  as  it  were ! 
and  then  seizes  his  cap  and  makes  a  dart  at  the  wasp, 
determined  to  kill  the  creature  whose  only  crime  was 
being  there  before  him. 

And  who  will  pity  the  pitiless  boy  ?  Who  comes  up  at 
the  moment?  Her  face  beaming  with  hope,  she  sees 
the  fruit  gone — dashed  to  the  ground — her  cherished 
pleasure  snatched  from  her,  and  yet  has  hardly  time 
for  the  tear  to  gather  in  her  eye,  or  the  grieved  tender- 
ness of  her  heart  to  find  expression  in  her  face,  when 
the  tone  of  anger  and  the  flush  of  selfish  disappointment 
011  her  brother's  countenance  distract  at  once  her  atten- 


88  TINY    WORLD. 

tion  frojr-  her  own  trouble,  and  she  hastens  to  soothe 
the  rage,  and  to  use  such  remedies  as  she  can.  Ah 
little  giffl,  we  are  so  glad  the  wasp  stung  him  instead 
of  you ;  aid,  though  yon  have  lost  the  peach  yon  were 
waiting  for,  see,  there  is  another  hanging  close  by  among 
the  leaves,  which  you  may  safely  gather  now,  for  I  think 
that  wpvap  has  left  its  sting  in  the  proper  place,  and  is  not 
likely  to  trouble  any  one  again. 

But  why  were  wasps  made  with  stings  ?  and  of  what 
use  ar?  they  in  the  world,  even  if  they  had  no  stings 
to  mako  them  a  terror  to  the  selfish  and  the  cruel  among 
humun  beings  ?  They  make  no  honey  for  the  delectation 
of  the  iovers  of  sweetness — no  mead  for  the  libations  of 
our  ar/v&stors  was  ever  manufactured  from  the  secretions 
of  their  industry.  For  what  benefits  to  society  from  their 
labours  are  we  indebted  to  these  irascible  creatures, 
whose  very  appearance  at  the  breakfast- table  has  the 
effect  of  a  bombshell  in  dispersing  the  company;  but 
who  seem  to  have  hitherto  failed  to  establish  a  claim  to 
respect  or  affection,  or  even  to  have  exhibited  in  their 
instincts  any  model  on  which  more  rational  creatures 
may  improve  in  their  elaborate  efforts  after  comfortable 
homes  or  luxurious  living  ? 

No  honey — no  wax — for  they  must  die  with  the 
season  which  gave  them  birth,  and  the  cells  they  inhabit 
for  the  brief  space  of  their  existence  are  of  far  less 
durable  materials  than  those  which  we  see  in  the 
structures  of  the  honey-bee.  Yet,  for  delicacy  of  struc- 
ture) for  minute  elaboration  of  its  material,  for  exactness 


WASPS   AND   PAPER-MAKING.  89 

ol  adaptation  to  all  their  wants,  the  nest  of  a  wasp  will 
never  suffer  in  comparison  with  that  of  any  other  living 
creature. 

Fragile  in  the  extreme,  it  is  always  protected  from- 
nitack  by  its  situation,  or  concealed  underground  at  a 
distance  of  more  than  a  foot  from  the  surface ;  and  like 
the  nest  of  the  hee  is  furnished  with  rows  of  cells,  for  the 
habitation  of  the  workers.  A  question  seems  to  arise  as 
the  process  is  examined,  whether  the  wasp  exists  to  build 
his  nest,  or  the  nest  is  built  for  the  existence  of  the  wasp, 
since  his  life  is  extended  so  shori  a  period  beyond  the 
completion  of  his  work. 

But  nests  have  served  for  several  generations  of 
wasps.  One  especially  was  long  preserved  under  a  glass 
case  in  the  drawing-room  of  a  house  which  had  for  years 
been  infested  by  these  irritating  insects,  whose  resort  no 
one  could  discover,  until  the  repair  of  a  disused  chimney 
led  to  the  discovery  of  one  of  the  largest  known  nests, 
which  the  wasps  had  inhabited,  repaired,  and  enlarged 
for  years. 

The  character  of  our  wasps  has  greatly  suffered  at  the 
hands  of  prejudice.  They  are  doubtless  armed  against 
attack,  and  are  justly  feared  when  the  ripened  fruit  hangs 
daintily  in  presence  of  the  creatures,  both  of  human  and 
of  insect  life,  for  whom,  doubtless  in  common,  such  feast 
is  bountifully  provided  by  the  great  Lord  of  Nature. 

But  who  ever  saw  a  wasp  attack  a  wasp  ?  They  all  work 
in  harmony  ;  nay,  more,  they  are  very  good  neighbours  to 
many  other  creatures.  For  instance,  one  of  our  ground 


90  TINY   WORLD. 

wasps  always  makes  its  nest  in  the  close  neighbourhood 
of  one  of  the  humble-bees,  and  no  one-  ever  knew  the 
wasp,  sweet  though  his  tooth  may  be,  help  himself  from 
his  neighbour's  store-room,  but  he  honestly  goes  out  and 
caters  daily  for  himself.  Indeed,  the  wasp  has  been 
hardly  dealt  with  in  being  held  up  to  hatred  as  a  waspish 
creature.  He  is  not  so  *  waspish '  in  his  temper  as  his 
cousin  the  bee ;  and  though  he  has  not  the  character  of 
being  a  hard-working  labourer,  yet  he  is  ordinarily  far  too 
busy  in  getting  his  daily  bread  to  turn  aside  and  waste 
his  time  by  picking  a  quarrel  with  the  passing  stranger. 

When  he  comes  into  the  breakfast-room,  drawn  by 
savoury  odours  of  jam  and  preserve,  he  only  asks  for  a 
share ;  but  when  every  handkerchief  is  flashed  over  his 
wings,  and  when  ferocious  attempts  are  made  to  crush 
him,  when,  in  m's  hurry  to  beat  a  retreat,  he  has  struck 
against  the  window-pane,  his  temper  would  be  more 
angelic  than  even  a  wasp's  can  be  expected  to  be,  if  he 
did  not  retaliate  by  attempting  to  use  the  weapon  wub 
which  Nature  has  endowed  him. 

But  we  can  examine  a  wasps*  nest  with  far  less  risk  than 
a  beehive,  if  we  do  not  irritate  the  inhabitants  by  too 
officious  a  curiosity.  When  a  scorching  summer's  sun  has 
quickened  the  energies  and  somewhat  tried  the  temper  of 
the  busy  colony  as  they  pass  to  and  fro,  we  must  not  stand 
in  their  way,  and  we  must  beware  of  treading  on  some 
wearied  insect  crawling  home  on  the  ground,  and  too  weak 
to  fly,  though  quite  strong  enough  to  sting  with  effect. 

There  is,  however,  a  great  difference  in  the  temper  of 


WASPS   AND   PAPER-MAKING.  91 

the  different  species  of  wasps,  as  we  are  told  by  those 
who  have  studied  them.  The  large  British  wasp,  which 
builds  in  the  ground,  is  said  to  have  the  sharpest 
sting ;  the  wood  wasp,  which  hangs  its  home  in  the 
bushes,  and  is  very  common  in  the  north  of  England,  is 
the  most  ready  to  use  its  sting,  probably  because,  having 
so  conspicuous  a  nest,  it  must  be  most  alert  in  its 
defence ;  while  the  red  wasp  is  said  to  have  the  most 
amiable  and  inoffensive  nature  of  all,  and  to  hold  the  place 
among  wasps  that  the  humble-bee  does  among  bees. 

Of  course,  when  foes  take  their  nests,  any  wasps 
will  sting  if  they  have  a  chance.  Their  devotion  to  the 
home  they  have  built  by  their  own  mandibles  is  very 
strong,  and  even  the  loss  of  their  queen  will  not  drive 
them  from  it.  No  wonder,  then,  that  like  other  creatures 
they  have  great  repugnance  to  being  disestablished  and 
disendowed.  They  will  bear  many  things  for  peace'  sake, 
but  they  would  not  be  wasps  to  stand  this.  When,  how- 
ever, the  wasp-hunter,  safely  protected  by  his  veil  and 
strong  leggings,  has  succeeded  in  digging  up  the  nest  of 
the  ground  wasps,  or  cutting  down  the  branch  with  the 
nest  of  the  tree-wasps,  he  may  carry  it  where  he  will,  and 
the  little  republic  will  cling  to  it  still.  He  has  only  to 
place  it  where  they  can  have  easy  access  and  work  at 
leisure,  and  they  will  soon  begin  to  repair  damages  and 
to  feed  with  devoted  attention  the  young  larvae  in  the 
combs. 

But,  after  all,  if  we  do  leave  them  alone,  what  is  the 
use  of  these  dangerous  little  creatures,  wtto  will  not  leave 


98  TINT    WORLD. 

as  alone  if  we  disturb  them  in  gathering  the  plum  ot 
the  gooseberry  we  have  been  cultivating  for  ourselves? 

We  shall  soon  find,  if  we  will  only  study  the  life  of  $ 
wasp,  that  it  deserves  to  be  reckoned  among  our  real 
benefactors.  If  they  take  toll  of  our  gardens  in  autumn, 
they  have  been  really  working  for  us  in  spring.  First  of 
all  they  are  active  scavengers.  No  vegetable  matter,  no 
decaying  garbage  in  which  the  vinous  fermentation  has 
commenced,  comes  amiss  to  them,  and  they  clear  off  much 
that  would  otherwise  taint  the  atmosphere.  So  also  they 
gather  a  great  deal  of  rotten  wood.  But  besides  this, 
they  have  a  very  carnivorous  appetite,  and  devour  spiders, 
flies,  and  especially  caterpillars,  those  enemies  of  the 
farmer  and  the  gardener.  Dr.  Ormerod,  the  charming 
historian  and  champion  of  the  wasp,*  brings  forward 
instances  in  which  the  careAil  destruction  of  wasps  has  in 
a  year  or  two  resulted  in  infesting  the  place  with  Egyptian 
swarms  of  flies.  About  a  wasps'  nest  the  wings  of  flies 
and  other  insects  may  be  gathered  in  handfuls ;  in  fact, 
they  form"  little  insect  kitchen-middens. 

Almost  every  one  is  aware  of  the  mischief  which  is 
done  by  killing  off  the  larger  animals — as  for  instance  the 
kestrel  and  the  owl,  who  destroy  millions  of  rats  and  mice 
— lest  they  should  occasionally  fall  in  with  a  wounded 
partridge.  The  sea-birds,  who  used  to  be  butchered  by 
stupid  fellow  that  could  borrow  a  gun  when  out  for 

holiday,  were  found  to  be  so  useful  to  the  sailor  and 

*  "Natural  History  of  Wasps."     By  E.  L.  Ormerod,  M.D. 


WASPS   AND   PAPER-MAKING.  93 

aven  the  fisherman,  though  they  eat  fish,  that  at  length 
they  are  protected  by  law. 

But  in  the  case  of  these  larger  creatures  man  can  by  con- 
trivances do  something  to  supply  their  office.  In  the  case 
of  insects  he  can  do  nothing,  though,  happily  for  him, 
they  are  toe  small  and  too  rapidly  propagated  to  render 
his  ignorant  efforts  for  their  destruction  successful,  and  so 
the  wasp  still  lives  in  spite  of  gardeners  and  their  boys, 
and  helpers,  whose  whims  and  prejudices  would  long 
since  have  doomed  him  to  the  same  fate  which  has  be- 
fallen the  noble  peregrine  falcon"  at  the  hand  of  the  game- 
keeper, if  the  power  of  gardeners  had  been  equal  to  their 
will,  and  their  decision  final. 

Now  if  we  can  only  persuade  the  gardener  to  observe 
the  wasp  in  spring,  at  the  veiy  time  he  is  most  energetic 
in  its  destruction,  we  shall  soon  convince  him  that  he  has 
in  it  a  true  friend.  With  the  bright  sunny  mornings  in 
April,  the  old  queen  wasps  that  in  some  sheltered  cranny 
have  survived  the  frosts  of  winter,  come  forth,  not  like 
lone  widows,  but  the  royal  foundresses  of  new  kingdoms. 

We  may  see  them  then  busily  occupied  on  the  slender 
twigs  of  the  gooseberry  bush,  or  in  the  young  wood  of 
the  apricot.  There  is  no  fruit  for  them  there  to  pierce  ; 
they  are  feasting  on  the  aphides  and  the  mildew  insects, 
which  the  gardener  with  all  his  syringes  and  decoctions  of 
tobacco- water  cannot  subdue  as  the  wasp  can.  Wherever 
these  minute  little  pests  most  abound,  there  you  may 
see  the  wasps'  mandibles  hard  at  work,  carefully  clearing 
off  all  the  gummy  exudation  till  the  top  of  the  yorng 


94  TINY    WORLD* 

bough  is  reached.  If  the  red  spider  or  its  eggs  come  In 
her  way,  the  wasp  uses  them  with  xnuch  relish  as  her 
sauce  piquante. 

One  wasp  unmolested  will  thus,  in  a  day  or  two,  by 
free  work  clear  the  insect  pests  from  a  whole  tree,  and  will 
secure  the  owner  that  crop  which  he  never  could  have 
had  without  her  aid,  and  on  which  surely  she  may  put  in 
a  claim  for  her  future  family  to  take  tithe.  It  is  scarcely 
possible  to  calculate  the  number  of  aphides  which  a 
hungry  queen  wasp  will  thus  devour  in  the  spring  and 
early  summer  months. 


WASPS  AND  PAPEB-MAKING. 


PART  II. 

OUT  it  is  as  the  original  paper-maker  that  the  wasp's 
•^  most  marvellous  instinct  is  displayed. 

Excepting  in  the  shape  of  its  cells,  there  is  nothing  in 
common  between  the  wasp-nest  and  the  beehive.  The 
architecture,  the  material,  the  position,  the  arrangement, 
the  uses  all  vary  in  the  two  families.  All  bees  make 
their  combs  of  wax  collected  by  them  from  plants, 
and  kneaded.  All  wasps  are  paper-makers,  not  wux- 
collectors.  The  comb  of  the  bee  is  destined  for  various 
uses — to  be  the  home  of  eggs  and  larvae,  or  young  bees, 
to  hold  either  honey  or  pollen,  and  is  also  intended  to 
last  for  many  seasons.  The  comb  of  the  wasp  is  built 
but  for  one  year  and  for  a  single  purpose — to  contain 
the  young  from  the  egg  till  it  comes  forth  a  perfect 
insect.  Then,  while  the  cells  'of  the  bees'  comb  are 
arranged  back  to  back  in  the  same  comb,  which  .hangs 


96  TINY   WOULD. 

vertically  from  the  roof  of  the  hive,  the  wasps'  comb  is 
suspended  horizontally  by  a  pillar  in  its  centre,  and  is 
composed  of  a  single  layer  of  cells,  all  opening  down- 
wards. 

There  is  one  point  in  which  the  wasp  shows  greater 
architectural  power  than  the  bee.  The  latter  trusts 
to  nature  or  to  man  for  its  hive.  The  wild  bee  finds 
a  hollow  tree  or  a  crevice  in  the  rocks,  in  which 
the  combs  may  hang  protected  from  the  weather.  The 
wasp,  not  content  with  manufacturing  its  own  house- 
hold furniture,  builds  the  house  also  for  itself,  and  that 
of  the  'same  material,  and  relies  upon  her  own  exer- 
tions to  defend  herself  from  the  effects  of  wind  and 
rain. 

The  wasps,  like  the  bees,  comprise  prolific  females  or 
queens,  barren  females  or  workers,  and  males  or  drones, 
which,  among  the  former  as  among  the  latter,  are 
stingless. 

But  the  lives  of  the  queen  wasp  and  the  queen 
bee  are  very  different.  The  queen  bee,  from  that  sunny 
morning  on  which,  like  some  Viking  of  the  North  in 
olden  time,  she  set  forth  to  found  a  new  empire  on  new 
soil,  with  the  swarms  of  her  attendant  and  devoted  sub- 
jects, never  again  leaves  her  palace,  far  more  closely 
immured  within  it  than  any  Eastern  sultan  or  Japanese 
Tycoon,  until  she  has  done  her  life's  work,  having  known 
no  labour  save  that  of  depositing  myriads  of  eggs.  But 
then  she  is  founding  a  dynasty,  and  her  little  kingdom 
may  be  handed  down  ip  the  female  line  for  many  gene- 


WASPS    AND    PAPER-MAKING.  97 

rations,  unless  prematurely  extinguished  by  the  hand  of 
the  spoiler — man. 

How  different  the  life  of  the  queen  wasp ! 

Like  some  hardy  colonist,  she  goes  forth  in  early 
spring  into  the  wilderness,  the  lonely  and  solitary 
survivor  of  her  family,  with  no  obsequious  damsels 
crowding  round  her  such  as  those  that  throng  the  court 
of  her  more  dusky  cousin.  She  has  no  parental  roof- 
tree  which  is  hers  by  succession.  No  inheritance  has 
come  down  to  her,  but,  like  the  human  pioneer  in  the 
new  land,  she  must  cater  for  herself.  She  must  be  her 
own  architect,  her  own  mason,  her  own  gardener  and 
purveyor,  and  this  too  with  the  cares  of  a  family  coming 
on,  and  all  her  youthful  progeny,  swathed  and  helpless, 
dependent  on  her  sole  exertions  for  everything. 

During  the  winter  she  has  lain  torpid  behind  some 
shutter  or  cornice,  in  the  crevice  of  an  old  wall,  or 
under  the  shelter  of  a  roof,  in  the  cranny  of  a  chimney- 
stalk.  With  the  first  warm  mornings  of  April  she  comes 
forth,  very  often  to  perish  prematurely  by  the  cutting 
spring  frosts,  and  keenly  chased  by  the  hungry  starlings 
and  the  gardener's  boy.  Few  of  her  race  have  survived 
the  blasts  of  winter ;  and  of  those  that  have,  fewer  still 
run  unscathed  the  gauntlet  of  all  their  enemies.  And 
still  for  weeks  she  must  remain  alone  and  unaided,  with 
food  to  seek,  a  home  to  find,  a  nest  to  build,  and  then  ail 
the  hungry  grubs  that  soon  follow  to  feed.  She  does  net 
hurry  about  beginning  her  nest,  but  take*  a  long  time  in 
selecting  ker  house. 


98  TINY   WORLD. 

There  are  six  kinds  of  wasps  in  England  besides  the 
hornet,  which  is  in  reality  only  a  large  species  of  wasp  ; 
and  of  these  some  build  in  the  ground,  in  holes,  or  in 
fissures  of  rocks ;  others  hang  their  nests  in  trees  or 
among  bushes.  Whatever  be  the  situation,  the  nests  of 
all  our  species  have  much  in  common.  They  are  all 
built  of  paper,  made  by  the  insect  itself,  and  whether 
hanging  from  a  bough  with  the  paper  dome  that  shelters 
them  from  wind  and  rain,  or  snugly  suspended  under  a 
roof  beam,  hidden  in  a  hollow  tree,  or  excavated  in  a 
bank-side,  the  nests  all  begin  and  go  on  in  the  same  way, 
adapted,  of  course,  to  circumstances.  The  tree  wasps 
take  care  to  have  their  dome  smooth  and  rounded  to 
carry  off  the  rain  at  once.  The  hornets  make  a  stout 
case  when  their  nest  is  exposed,  a  very  slight  one  when 
they  choose  a  hollow  tree  or  similar  shelter.  The 
ground  wasps  make  a  strong,  rough,  coarse,  brown 
paper  shield  underground,  but  a  much  firmer  and  lighter 
shell  when  they  build,  as  they  sometimes  do,  from  a 
rafter. 

But  how  do  the  wasps  get  their  paper  ?  They  manu- 
facture it. 

Long  before  the  Egyptians  had  discovered  how  to  pare 
papyrus  stems  into  shavings  to  make  their  books,  before 
the  Chinese  had  learned  to  squeeze  and  spread  out 
the  thin  cotton  pulp  into  sheets  of  paper,  the  wasps 
knew  how  to  apply  almost  every  substance  which  has 
been  employed  bj  our  paper-makers  to  the  fabrication  of 
their  dwellings.  Grass  fibres,  withered  leaves,  rotten 


WASPS   AND   PAPER -MAKING.  ,  101 

wood,  paper  cuttings,  bark  scrapings,  the  thin  coating  ol 
buds,  vegetable  down — all  these  and  many  other  sub- 
stances are  worked  up  by  the  wasps,  and  laid  on  pre- 
cisely in  the  same  manner  by  all. 

If  we  watch  a  wasp  on  an  old  gate-post,  we  shall  see  it 
peeling  off  little  strips  of  woody  fibre,  which  she  rolls 
into  pellets  and  carries  home  in  her  mandibles.  There 
are  also  many  kinds  of  rushes  and  water-plants,  the 
stems  of  which  are  covered  with  tough  filaments,  which 
the  wasp  peels  off,  and  which  make  papier-mache  of  a 
stronger  and  superior  quality,  much  more  proof  against 
the  rain  than  the  wood  scrapings.  As  soon  as  the  busy 
insect  has  rolled  up  a  good- sized  pellet  of  wood  or  grass 
parings,  she  tucks  the  burden  in  and  under  her  mandibles 
or  large  pincer  jaws,  and  with  outstretched  neck  flies 
home. 

Then,  on  arrival,  she  first  retires  within  the  nest  to 
rest  for  a  minute,  and  coming  out  again  promptly  sets 
to  work.  If  what  is  required  be  the  strengthening  or 
enlarging  of  the  outer  walls,  she  gets  astride  the  edge  of 
the  shell  of  the  nest,  takes  hold  of  the  pellet  with  her 
fore- legs,  presses  it  down  firmly,  and  kneads  the  end  of 
it,  fastening  it  with  her  gummy  saliva,  and  then  slowly 
she  walks  backwards,  unrolling  the  pellet  as  she  goes, 
pounding  and  working  it  firmly  down,  while  keeping  it 
moist,  and  when  she  has  come  to  the  end  she  runs 
forward  again,  and  commences  to  retrace  her  stepg, 
drawing  the  edge  through  her  mandibles,  flattening  and 
kneading  it  aa  she  goes,  and  repeating  the  process  several 


102  TINY   WORLD. 

times  till  the  little  addition  she  has  made  is  evenly  anJ 
neatly  welded  on  to  the  structure,  and  as  soon  as  it  is 
dried  cannot  be  distinguished  from  the  former  work.  The 
nests  often  have  a  striped  appearance,  caused  by  different 
wasps  bringing  materials  of  different  colours,  and  work- 
ing in  their  own  quota  as  they  find  a  vacant  place  on  the 
edge  of  the  nest. 

But  the  first  commencement  was  very  humble.  The 
queen  began  in  spring  by  attaching  a  little  cap  of  grey 
paper,  of  the  shape  of  a  tiny  parasol,  to  a  stalk  of  paper 
gummed  securely  to  the  under  side  of  a  branch  or  stone. 
Below  the  cap  tEis  footstalk  is  extended  and  spread  out 
to  form  the  beginnings  of  four  little  octagon  cells,  hang- 
ing downwards,  in  each  of  which  she  drops  an  egg,  and 
glues  it  into  its  place.  The  lonely  lady  then  begins  to 
enlarge  the  cap,  and  adds  other  cells  on  each  side  of  the 
first,  strengthening  the  foundation  pillar  as  she  proceeds. 
Her  labour  grows  upon  her. 

The  first  eggs  hatch,  and  now  she  must  feed  her  young 
and  go  on  with  her  house-building  at  the  same  time. 
She  busily  flies  backwards  and  forwards  to  the  nearest 
bushes,  and  hurriedly  gathers  a  supply  of  juicy  aphides 
or  well-fatted  spiders  to  support  her  larvae. 

At  length  the  first  brood  is  hatched  (though  by  far  the 
greater  number  of  nests  begun  never  reached  this  stage, 
owing  to  the  precarious  fortunes  of  the  mother),  and 
then  the  queen  begins  to  assert  her  dignity,  and  to  rely 
upon  the  labours  of  her  offspring.  The  nest  is  soon 
brought  into  shape,  and  the  covering  drawn  down  and 


WASPS   AND   PAPEB- MAKING.  103 

completed  uiderneath,  so  as  to  form  a  perfect  sphere, 
with  a  small  hole  near  the  bottom  for  an  entrance. 

But  the  original  work  must  be  rapidly  undone.  There 
is  no  room  for  enlargement  within,  and  therefore  one 
outside  cover  after  another  is  added  over  the  former,  each 
quite  independent  of  the  preceding  layer,  which  is  re- 
moved from  the  inside,  as  the  outer  cover  is  completed. 

Meantime  the  comb  inside  grows  apace,  as  fast  as  the 
walls  expand.  The  four  original  cells  grow  into  a  comb, 
with  six  or  seven  combs,  hanging  layer  beneath  layer, 
each  perhaps  six  inches  or  more  in  breadth  ;  and  the 
pillar,  which  is  the  centre  and  key  of  the  work,  is  pro- 
portionally strengthened,  and  the  strips  of  paper  which 
attach  it  above  are  doubled  and  trebled  to  bear  the 
additional  weight.  As  the  comb  grows,  every  day  the 
inside  of  the  case  is  cut  away  to  make  room  for  it. 

Thus  the  quantity  of  paper  used  is  very  great,  for  the 
cuttings  of  the  old  are  not  used  again,  or,  if  they  are,  it 
is  only  after  they  have  been  nibbled  and  reduced  to  pulp 
again  by  the  jaws  of  the  workers,  and  then  mixed  with 
new  material.  The  floor  of  the  nest  is  thus  always 
strewn  with  sc  %aps  of  used  paper,  as  that  of  a  beehive 
with  waste  wax- plates.  Sometimes,  too,  the  wasps  scamp 
their  work,  and  if  they  find  leaves  at  hand  that  suit  theii 
purpose,  they  will  work  them  into  the  nest  without  aoj 
previous  manufacture. 


WASPS  AND  PAPEK-MAKING. 


PART  III. 

"JITANY  foreign  wasps — and  the  species  of  wasps  are 
-"-•-  countless — differ  much  in  their  architecture  from 
those  of  our  own  land. 

Some,  in  countries  exposed  to  much  rain  and  wind, 
make  their  paper  stout,  thick,  clean,  and  white  as  card- 
board— so  strong  that  it  may  be  knocked  about  and 
washed  with  impunity.  The  cardboard  is  made  of  the 
finest  cotton  down  felted  together,  and  as  many  as  sixteen 
or  more  layers  may  be  counted  forming  the  walls  of  the 
nest.  This  wasp  lives  in  Demerara,  where  the  sudden 
and  violent  rains  would  soon  wash  away  the  whity- 
brown  fabric  of  the  British  paper-maker. 

In  the  East  Indies,  where  rain  hardly  ever  falls  during 
the  lifetime  of  the  wasp  republic,  a  large  species  is 
content  with  mud  with  a  little  straw  mingled,  like  the 
bricks  at  which  Israel  had  to  toil  in  Egypt,  and  makes 


WASPS    AND    PAPEK- MAKING.  lOf) 

a  huge  clumsy  structure,  which  one  heavy  thunderstorm 
would  reduce  to  a  hopeless  wreck  of  mud.  Others,  again, 
use  only  leaves,  and  are  tailors  rather  than  paper-makers 
Others  make  no  roof  at  all,  and  some  hang  their  comtn 
•with  a  paper  umbrella  over  them,  but  no  flooring  or 
other  protection.  One  species  contents  itself  with  using 
a  great  leaf  for  its  cover,  while  it  makes  its  cells  oi 
paper. 

In  the  Holy  Land,  again,  there  is  one  species  which 
hangs  its  combs  in  cavities  in  the  sandy  banks  of  rivers, 
and  which,  suspending  its  great  comb  from  the  roof, 
economizes  labour  by  omitting  all  covering,  while  it 
prevents  any  injury  to  the  comb  by  running  a  thin 
irregular  sheet  of  very  fine  whity-brown  paper  along 
the  under-side  of  the  roof  of  the  cave,  so  that  no  sand  or 
pebbles  can  fall  on  to  its  nest. 

Dr.  Ormerod  tells  us  also  that  wasps  can  foretell  the 
weather  with  a  preciseness  far  superior  to  that  of  the 
most  skilled  of  almanac-prophets. 

A  gamekeeper  in  a  land  of  brooks  informed  him 
that  the  height  at  which  wasps  make  their  nests  above 
the  water  is  a  rough  index  of  the"  amount  of  rain  that 
is  to  be  expected  during  the  summer.  In  a  wet  season 
they  choose  the  top  of  the  bank,  in  a  dry  year  they 
excavate  nearer  the  water  level.  Again,  it  is  found  that 
when  a  hedge  bank  is  selected,  instead  of  the  more 
ordinary  situation,  the  edifice  is  much  slighter  than  when 
wind  and  rain  have  to  be  provided  against. 

But   still,    under   whatever   conditions   built,  we    can 


106  TINY    WORLD. 

always  recognise  the  difference  between  the  architecture 
of  the  different  kinds  of  wasps.  Besides  the  hornet,  whick 
is  only  a  species  of  very  large  wasp,  and  must  always 
be  counted  with  them,  there  are  three  kinds  of  ground 
wasps,  and  three  of  tree  wasps,  in  Britain.  Each  species 
makes  a  distinct  sort  of  paper,  and  we  have  only  to 
hold  it  up  to  the  light,  to  read  the  water-mark  of  nature'c 
impressing,  and  we  can  recognise  the  builder. 

The  hornet,  for  instance,  who  does  everything  on 
a  large  and  coarse  s*cale,  makes  its  paper  very  thick 
and  brittle,  of  a  yellow  colour,  composed  of  fragments 
of  decayed  wood,  bits  of  straw,  and  other  rubbish 
glued  up  with  sand  into  a  coarse  pulp.  There  is  a 
good  clear  space,  inside  the  hornet's  nest,  between  the 
combs  and  the  wall,  like  the  open  space  that  used 
so  be  kept  in  Vienna  and  other  fortified  towns  betweeu 
the  houses  and  the  walls. 

The  common  ground  wasp  builds  on  the  same  plan, 
but  its  paper  is  a  very  superior  sample.  It  is  much 
finer,  the  fragments  of  wood  are  much  more  carefully 
beaten  into  pulp,  and  instead  of  being  yellow,  the 
colour  is  much  more  varied,  generally  with  stripes  of 
whitish  brown.  This  wasp  will  build  anywhere  where 
it  can  find  shelter.  Though  generally  underground,  yet 
a  good  cottage  roof,  especially  if  it  be  thatched,  never 
comes  amiss.  It  has  even  been  known  to  build  attached 
to  a  sugar-loaf.  This  last  was  rather  an  e\travagant 
ase  of  the  loaf  for  a  wasp,  since  it  usually  prefers  to 
take  the  sugar  inside. 


WASPS   AND   PAPER-HAKINO.  107 

At  least  we  have  read  of  a  Government  sugar  store  in 
India,  which  was  taken  possession  of  by  a  swarm  of 
hornets,  and  held  by  them  in  defiance  of  the  order  of  the 
East  India  Company,  till  the  end  of  the  season,  when  on 
the  commissariat  officer  claiming  his  charge  at  last,  he 
found  they  had  got  through  two  thousand  pounds  of 
sugar.  We  must  confess  that  the  paper  of  the  ground 
wasp  is  not  of  the  strongest  quality,  and  would  not  be  at 
all  appreciated  in  the  grocer's  shop. 

Our  other  common  ground  wasp  makes  a  similar 
nest,  but  it  can  always  be  distinguished  by  having  no 
mottling  or  stripes  of  colour  in  its  construction,  but 
is  of  a  uniform  dull  grey  colour,  and  in  texture  is 
not  more  stout  or  durable  than  its  cousins.  It  easily 
comes  to  pieces,  though  there  is  no  stint  of  material 
in  its  construction,  but  the  layers  are  heaped  on  over- 
lapping each  other,  and  without  the  neatly-trimmed 
edges  which  mark  many  of  the  others.  There  is  gene- 
rally a  neat  little  mouth,  with  a  landing-place  and  porch 
at  the  entrance  of  this  nest,  which  is  always  near  the 
bottom  of  the  building. 

Much  prettier  is  the  ground  nest  of  the  red  wasp, 
which  lays  on  the  plates  of  paper  very  neatly,  and  with 
the  edges  smoothly  tacked  down. 

The  tree  wasp  makes  much  larger  sheets  of  paper. 
Vespa  britannica,  the  commonest  tree  wasp  in  the  south 
of  England,  makes  its  nest  of  much  better  paper,  for  it 
uses  stout  vegetable  fibre  instead  of  rotten  wood  in  its 
construction ;  arid,  indeed,  it  requires  a  much  stronger 


108  TINY  WORLD. 

material,  for  the  nest  hangs  exposed  in  a  biish  or  hedge 
row,  open  to  all  the  changes  of  weather.  The  paper 
is  prettily  mottled  with  white,  hrown,  and  yellow  streaks. 

One  other  tree  wasp,  which  is  very  common  in  the 
north  of  England,  makes  its  nest  generally  of  paper  of 
one  colour,  but  very  tough,  and  hanging  loosely,  like 
petticoat  flounces,  one  over  another,  in  a  great  many 
layers.  The  hole  of  this  nest  is  always  exactly  at  the 
bottom.  This  bell-shaped  nest  is,  I  think,  the  prettiest 
of  all. 

The  internal  domestic  arrangements  of  all  these  species 
of  paper-makers  are  the  same.  The  eggs,  we  have  said, 
are  glued  to  the  bottom  of  the  cell  by  the  mother  wasp, 
or  else,  of  .course,  they  would  drop  at  once  out  of  the 
inverted  cup. 

When  hatched,  the  tail  of  the  infant  remains  glued  to 
the  top  of  the  cell  in  its  old  egg-shell ;  and  though  it 
moults  several  times,  still  its  tail  remains  glued  until  it 
has  nearly  reached  its  full  size.  But  it  often  becomes 
detached,  and  then  the  workers,  who  have  no  toleration 
for  untidiness,  and  treat  everything  that  is  out  of  its 
place  as  dirt,  are  sure  to  carry  the  little  larva  away 
without  pity,  and  eject  it  with  other  scraps  and  rubbish 
—a  fearful  warning  to  other  baby  wasps  to  keep  in  their 
cradles. 

As  soon  as,  after  various  moultings,  the  little 
larvaB  have  attained  their  full  size,  nearly  large  enough 
to  fill  the  cfill,  but  still  able  to  turn  round  in  it,  they 
begin  to  weave  a  silk  case,  which  is  to  protect  them 


WASPS  AND  PAPER- MAKING.  109 

while  they  change  to  the  pupa  or  chrysalis  state.  This 
done,  they  weave  a  white  silk  cap  on  the  bottom  of  the 
cell,  and  then  cast  their  skin  a  second  time. 

It  is  curious  that  the  wasp  larvse  have  sharp  mandibles, 
with  which  they  mince  for  themselves  the  food  brought 
them  by  their  nurses.  They  get  .a  new  pair  with  their 
new  moult,  which  are  used  at  the  end  of  their  chrysalis 
existence  to  cut  their  way  into  the  outer  world.  As  soon 
as  the  newly- awakened  insect  has  cut  its  way  through 
this  nightcap,  it  begins  to  feed  itself,  and  actually  eats 
its  slight  dress  piecemeal,  directly  it  emerges  from  the 
cell  a  full-grown,  pale-looking  wasp.  Soon  its  wings 
expand  and  dry,  and  it  sets  to  work  at  once  at  paper- 
making,  as  if  it  had  long  since  served  its  apprentices!  ip. 
Meantime  all  the  old  silk  casing  and  other  loose  frag- 
ments are  cut  off  the  empty  cell,  and  it  is  considered 
ready  for  a  new-laid  egg,  though  much  dirt  may  be  left 
at  the  top,  which  is  never  thoroughly  cleaned  out. 

I  must  give  the  history  of  the  growth  and  end  of  the 
wasps'  nest  in  Dr.  Ormerod's  words  : — "  By  the  conjoint 
labours  of  all  the  busy  workers,  here  a  little  and  there  a 
little,  the  nest  grows.  The  work  of  one  week  may  have 
to  be  renewed  the  next  week,  to  make  way  for  modern 
improvements  and  for  the  requirements  of  the  growing 
city ;  and,  as  we  have  seen,  it  has  nearly  all  to  be  done 
twice  over.  But  wasps  work  very  hard,  and  the  nest 
grows  visibly  day  by  day.  The  little  egg-shell  in  which 
it  began  is  lost  in  the  changes  which  the  top  of  the  nesi 
undergoes.  The  slight  strap  from  which  it  hung  is  now 


110 


TINY    WORLD. 


quite  inadequate  to  sustain  the  daily  increasing  weight, 
and  new  points  of  attachment  are  sought  to  projecting 
roots,  or  stones,  or  branches.  Sometimes  a  branch  runs 


THE    INSIDE    OF   A   WASPS     NEST. 


all  through  a  nest.  Or,  failing  these,  the  original  point 
of  support  is  strengthened  by  layer  upon  layer  of  paper 
rubbed  smooth,  and  thickly  coated  with  wasp  gum  to 


WASPS   AND    PAPER-MAKING.  Ill 

perserve  so  vital  a  point  from  all  accidents  of  wind  and 
weather 

"  One  thing  more  British  wasps'  nest  have  in  common, 
viz.,  the  end  of  all  their  labour,  the  wreck  and  ruin  oi 
their  wonderful  fabric.  The  history  of  the  most  long- 
lived  swarin  of  wasps  extends  only  over  a  few  weeks. 
The  end  comes  very  speedily,  as  well  as  surely,  whatever 
the  cause,  and  the  story  of  the  decay  of  the  nest,  whose 
growth  we  have  traced,  may  be  told  in  a  few  lines. 

"  No  additions  are  made  to  the  structure,  the  repairs 
are  neglected,  the  loose  ends  are  not  neatly  cut  off  and 
fastened  down.  A  few  idle  wasps  hang  about,  but  the 
nest  seems  almost  deserted.  Perhaps  a  shake  of  the 
hedge  will  bring  out  a  few  fussy  wasps  for  a  minute,  or  a 
sunny  afternoon  will  develop  signs  of  life  in  the  remains 
of  the  swarm,  yet  their  strength  is  gone.  A  cold  night 
or  two,  a  few  damp  cold  days,  and  all  is  over. 

"  Now  the  collector  takes  his  prize  safely ;  but  he  must 
be  quick  about  it,  for  if  he  delays,  the  rain  and  wind  will 
soon  destroy  whatever  of  this  curious  structure  the  moths 
and  wood-lice  and  earwigs  have  spared.  These  are  now 
its  occupants.  The  little  creatures  who  made  it,  and 
held  it  against  all  comers,  have  succumbed  to  cold,  and 
disease,  and  old  age,  like  other  brave  soldiers.  They 
have  skulked  off  to  die,  like  old  cats,  away  from  home, 
and  the  most  unlikely  place  to  find  a  live  wasp  is  in  ac 
old  wasps'  nest."* 

So  much  for  the  story  of  paper-making  and  wasps, 
•  Ormerod,  "  Natural  History  of  Wasps,"  p.  209. 


112  TINY   WORLD. 

Much  more  remains  to  tell,  for  wasps  yield  not  to 
in  interest  and  in  display  of  forethought  and  instinct 
which  can  never  he  explained  but  by  reference  to  divine 
provision.  But  I  hope  I  have  told  enough  to  lead  my 
young  readers  to  look  on  a  wasp  as  something  better 
than  a  "horrid  nasty  thing,"  to  be  crushed  on  the  win- 
dow pane  or  trodden  underfoot  whenever  there  is  a 
ohanee, 


SILK    AND    SILKWORMS 


SILK  AND  SILKWOBMS. 


PART  I. 

<:  A  LONG  pull,  and  a  strong  pull,  and  a  pull  all  together  " 
-R-  was  the  practical  language  of  the  thousand  and  one 
slender  fibres  of  the  silken  cord,  strained  and  tightened 
from  the  bell-wire,  which  the  master  of  the  house  pulled 
with  a  vigour  and  determination  that  bespoke  attention, 
and  with  a  result  that  might  have  awakened  the  seven 
sleepers. 

"  You'll  break  the  rope  !  "  was  our  exclamation,  instinc- 
tively closing  our  ears  with  our  hands  :  "  you'll  certainly 
break  the  rope,  it's  only  silk." 

11  Only  silk !  and  what  more,  and  what  better  would 
you  have  for  strength,  for  elasticity,  for  carrying  weight, 
or  bearing  a  pull  ?  Look  at  little  Madge  at  the  table, 
winding  away  off  her  cocoon,  and  tell  me  what  other 
material  in  the  world  for  its  size  is  half  as  strong.  Talk 
of  a  hempen  rope,  an  iron  cable,  you  might  as  soon 


11(5  TINY   WOELD. 

make  use  of  a  rope  of  sand,  if  either  of  them  were  taken 
in  the  slender  form  of  that  little  thread  ;  but  ticisted,  com- 
bined, made  into  a  cord,  I  think  we  have  something  far 
more  telling  than  even  the  old  fable  of  the  bundle  ol 
sticks  as  to  the  strength  of  united  action.-" 

"  0  for  united  action  now !  "  Was  it  not  the  voice 
as  of  a  plaintive  and  much-injured  being,  issuing  from 
the  glistening  thread,  that  many  times  already  had 
snapped  under  the  impatient  hands  that  attempted  to 
wind  it  ?  "  Had  I  but  my  ten  sisters  here  to  twist  and 
twine  their  threads  with  mine  as  erst  so  lovingly  we  fed 
together  on  one  mulberry  bough,  I  had  not  now  to 
endure  alone  the  impatient  shocks  that  shiver  my  whole 
being  and  send  a  tremor  from  end  to  end  of  my  thousand 
yards  of  length." 

"  Tiresome  thing ! "  exclaimed  little  Madge,  whose 
single  thread  of  silk  from  the  one  cocoon  which  was 
her  own  especial  property,  had,  notwithstanding  all 
the  elasticity  so  truly  attributed  to  it,  snapped  now 
once  too  often  for  her  impetuous  spirit,  and  on  whom 
the  above  valuable  suggestion  had  been  entirely 
thrown  away,  probably  because  entirely  inaudible. 
"  Tiresome  thing  1  I  won't  go  on  !  Tm  sure  it  breaks  on 
purpose  /" 

"  And  a,  good  purpose  too,  if  it  were  to  teach  you  to 
twine  a  little  patience  and  perseverance  with  the  slender 
thread  of  a  little  objectless  amusement ;  the  threefold 
cord  would  stand  a  stronger  pull  than  that  which  troke 
your  silk,  and  that,  slender  as  it  was,  would  have  giver 


SILK    AND    SILKWOIttlS.  110 

yon  no  disappointment  if  you  had  consented  to  ihe  wish 
of  the  others,  to  wind  the  three  cocoons  together. 

"  But  while  your  patience  has  time  to  recruit  itself, 
come  here  and  listen  to  a  silkworm  memoir  which  I 
happen  just  now  to  have  met  with,  just  such  a  history 
as  the  little  being  inside  that  cocoon  might  have  uttered, 
could  it  make  itself  understood  by  us  : — 

"  '  Like  all  beings,  clad  not  in  the  rough  and  borrowed 
garments  of  the  flax  or  of  cotton  material,  but  in  the 
luxurious  folds  of  their  own  ancestral  silk,  /  boast  a  very 
long  line  of  ancestry.  My  native  land  possesses  a  his- 
tory older  than  that  of  any  other  nation  on  the  face  of 
the  globe — a  land  where  also  the  theory  of  the  transmi- 
gration of  souls  lent  encouragement  to  the  hopes  even  of 
a  silkworm,  that  the  soul  which  had  so  rapidly  been 
transmitted  through  its  various  and  exciting  transforma- 
tions might  one  day  fill  the  body  of  a  Mandarin,  an 
Empress,  or  an  Emperor,  clad  once  more  in  its  primitive 
raiment,  and  walking  erect  on  two,  instead  of  crawling 
upon  many  legs. 

"  '  Comparatively  recent,  that  is,  not  quite  four  thou- 
sand years  ago,  were  the  days  when  the  great  Emperor, 
Hoang  Ti,  cast  the  eye  of  appreciation  upon  the  labours 
and  the  lives  of  my  progenitors,  and  his  Empress,  the 
inestimable  Si  Ling  Chi,  with  the  liliputian  feet  and  the 
fairy  fingers,  first  caused  to  be  assembled  within  the 
precincts  of  her  Celestial  garden  multitudes  of  the  many- 
legged  race,  and  gathered  with  her  own  hands  the  dainty 
leaves  of  viscid  mulberry  wherewith  the  voracious  appe- 


118        r  TINY    WORLD. 

trtes  of  the  mothers  of  millions  might  be  appeased. 
Strange  were  the  transformations  of  their  bodies,  strange 
also  doubtless  the  transmigrations  of  their  souls,  pre- 
figuring the  heights  to  which  patient  industry,  even 
embodied  in  a  grub,  may  yet  attain.  Yet  it  is  recorded 
concerning  their  work  and  the  productions  of  their  lives, 
that  evermore  that  which  was  most  hidden  and  nearest 
the  centre  of  their  body  was  the  richest  and  most  highly 
prized,  while  the  showy  exterior  and  lighter  surroundings 
were  thrown  away  as  comparatively  worthless. 

"  '  Nor  was  the  celestial  lady  content  with  the  task  of 
benevolence  which  consisted  only  in  ministering  to  the 
hunger  and  pampering  the  appetites  of  the  army  of 
insatiables  ;  but  as  in  China  and  among  our  own  race 
all  things  human  are  reversed,  so  was  her  chief  work 
of  benevolence,  not  that  of  clothing  the  naked,  but  of 
relieving  the  overcharged  and  sleeping  bodies  of  my 
ancestors  of  their  superabundant  clothing. 

"  *  Up  to  that  time  the  skins  of  slaughtered  sheep 
sufficed  to  cover  the  human  frame,  and  protect  from  the 
inclemency  of  wintry  seasons  a  race  who  possessed 
neither  the  art  of  producing  from  their  interior  substance 
their  external  covering,  nor  yet  the  energy  to  condense 
within  a  single  summer  season  the  duties  of  a  lifetime. 
But  men  were  many,  and  sheep  were  few,  and  the 
cradles  of  our  race  were  used  by  the  Empross  and  her 
attendant  ladies  to  enclose  their  own  august  persons. 

"  '  Willingly  we  afforded  to  them  the  shelter  no  longer 
of  use  to  ourselves,  feeling  abundantly  requited  by  the 


SILK   AND   SILKWOBMS.  119 

proyision  so  liberally  made  for  successive  generations  ol 
our  family  in  the  planting  of  extensive  groves  of  that 
paternal  tree  whence  we  derive,  not  only  the  strength  of 
our  constitution,  but  the  texture  of  our  raiment.  Well 
it  was  that  such  care  was  bestowed  on  their  nourishment, 
as  otherwise  it  might  have  become  necessary  to  resort 
to  emigration. 

'« «  Emigration  indeed  !  that  would  not  only  have  seri- 
ously lowered  the  self-respect  of  a  race  whose  welcome  hag 
in  every  land,  and  in  all  times,  anticipated  their  arrival, 
and  who  have  never  had  to  wander  in  search  of  a  settle- 
ment, but  have  nevertheless  entirely  baffled  the  boast  of 
our  great  patroness  Si  Ling  Chi,  who  reserved  the  best 
and  richest  of  her  silken  fabrics  for  the  great  sacrifice 
of  Chang  Si,  and  suffered  not  the  outside  Barbarians  so 
much  as  even  to  see  their  grandmothers,  or  to  handle  the 
delicate  threads  they  spun. 

" '  Then  were  we  had  in  great  esteem,  then  was  silk 
worth  its  weight  in  gold,  and  then  did  the  merchants 
trade  with  other  lands  for  these  precious  things,  making 
payment  for  the  same  in  fabrics  cunningly  woven  by 
secret  arts  from  the  many-threaded  cocoons  of  the  mul- 
berry groves. 

"  '  Rough  and  hard  were  the  men  of  old,  and  wool  was 
for  them  the  fittest  covering — best  suited  both  to  their 
unclothed  bodies  and  their  sordid  souls.  And  of  thorn 
the  roughest  and  the  hardest  were  the  Romans  ;  and  (A 
the  Romans,  one  stronger  and  braver  than  many  yet  saw 
and  coveted  the  strange  softness  and  dazzling  brightnest 


120  TINY    WORLD. 

wherewith  shine  the  garments  of  those  who  arc  clad  IL 
the  cast-off  raiments  of  our  grandmothers.  How  must 
the  great-grandsons  of  those  noble  old  mulberry  eaters  have 
shuddered  could  they  have  witnessed  the  scenes  enacted 
before  the  first  silken  curtain  which  Julius  Caesar  spread 
over  his  tent  in  the  Colosseum,  where  human  gladiators 
and  savage  animals  fought  together  as  fight  the  tigers  in 
the  jungle,  and  the  outside  barbarians  shouted  at  the 
spectacle !  The  show  was  brave,  the  silk  was  a  gorgeous 
prodigality,  and — Caesar  was  a  great  man. 

"  '  Yet  did  the  Empress  of  the  Celestials  long  outshine 
those  of  the  West,  for  not  even  to  the  Empress  Severina 
was  the  luxury  accorded,  so  universally  indulged  in  by 
the  ladies  of  the  little  feet,  of  wearing  a  dress  of  a 
material  so  costly. 

"  *  Still  the  natural  desire  of  that  half  of  the  human  race 
for  costly,  soft,  and  splendid  attire  was  destined  to  be 
gratified  by  means  apparently  the  most  unlikely. 

"  '  Clad  in  costume  of  dingy  brown,  the  produce  of  the 
sheep  or  goat,  and  with  no  weapon  but  a  staff,  two  men 
on  foot  invaded  and  succeeded  in  robbing  of  its  precious 
monopoly  the  land  that  had  hitherto  cherished  and  pro- 
tected us ;  and  by  ingenious  concealment  within  those 
very  staves,  they  imported  in  small  numbers,  and  carried 
across  the  mountains  and  rivers  of  India,  and  the  plains 
of  Persia  and  Syria,  the  precious  eggs  whence  should  bo 
hatched  the  successive  generations  of  our  now  widely- 
extended  family.  Since  that  epoch,  our  pride  of  family. 
our  exclusiveness  in  social  position,  have  rapidly  giver 


SILK   AND    SILKWORMS. 


121 


way  before  the  revolutionary  tide  which  has  swept  over 
Europe,  and  has  even  procured  for  the  Barbarians  of 
the  West  a  settlement  in  the  early  home  of  our  race. 

"  '  No  longer  do  emperors  and  empresses  enjoy  alone 
the  privilege  of  wearing  the  produce  of  our  labours.     Not 


THE  SILKWORM'S  DEVELOPMENT  FROM  THE  EGG  i     .rs  J.ILL 

GROWTH. 
(Showing  the  four  ages  at  which  it  casts  its  skin.) 

only  does  the  blue  ribbon  sustain  the  star  of  honour  that 
distinguishes  the  breast  of  the  British  Mandarin ;  not 
only  does  the  gorgeous  train  sweep  gracefully  round  the 
person  of  the  Royal  Dame  ;  tfre  village  maiden  weaves  in 
her  golden  hair  a  tress  of  brilliant  silk ;  and  even  the 


122  TINY    WORLD. 

schoolboy,  when  he  stoops  to  tie  his  shoe,  fingers  tlit 
ribbon  that  was  once  the  work  of  a  silkworm  like  myself. 
"  '  My  personal  history  is  but  brief,  for  not  to  silk- 
worms is  it  given  to  con  again  in  recurring  seasons  the 
experience  of  former  years.  With  the  early  sun  of  advanc- 
ing spring,  I,  who  till  then  had  been  but  an  egg,  and  had 
lain  tranquilly  on  a  shelf  through  the  bleak  storms  of 
winter,  crawled  into  being,  a  slender  black  thread  of  life. 
Larger  I  grew,  for  future  greatness  dawned  on  my  distant 
horizon ;  and,  perceiving  that  the  first,  last,  and  only 
duties  incumbent  on  a  being  like  myself  were  to  eat,  to 
grow,  and  to  cast  my  skin  when  too  tight  for  my  expand- 
ing body,  I  diligently  pursued  these  avocations,  and  with 
a  success  that  rivalled  the  largest,  the  most  voracious, 
and  most  slnggish  of  my  companions.  Soon,  a  longing 
for  change  seemed  to  oppress  me,  and,  as  I  raised  my 
head  to  seek  for  new  spheres  of  action,  a  torpor  crept 
over  my  frame  ;  I  quitted  the  leaves  on  which  hitherto  I 
had  feasted,  and  cast  my  lot  as  a  dependent  being  on  an 
isolated  spot  selected  at  random.  But  I  soon  felt  the 
hour  was  come  no  longer  to  receive  but  to  impart,  and 
that  in  the  process  of  giving  forth  of  my  substance,  I  was 
myself  enriched.  I  have  now  for  some  time  dwelt  in  the 
midst  of  a  golden  abundance  ;  never  hungering  for  food, 
and  possessed  of  that  wherewith  I  may  clothe  the  needy. 
I  shall  now  Boon  end  my  career,  a  creature  different  far  from 
my  small  beginning ;  feeble,  indeed,  in  flight,  but  prolific 
in  eggs,  and  ready — after  fluttering  a  few  brief  days  a  fair 
white  moth,  and  leaving  innumerable  hostages  to  pos^rity 


I/AKVA,    PUPA,    COCOON,    AND    MOTH    ui    TilE    COMMON    SILK.WOKM, 


SILK    AND    SILKWORMS.  125 

—to  enter  upon  whatsoever  stage  of  transmigration  the 
theories  of  Confucius  may  point  out  as  the  future  of  a 
perfected  Bombyx  moriS  " 

So  much  for  the  autobiography  of  the  little  silkworm  ; 
but  by  what  little  things  may  the  history  of  nations  be 
affected  I 

When  those  two  wandering  Persian  monks,'  of  whom 
we  spoke,  contrived  from  the  Indian  Missions  to  penetrate 
the  hitherto  sealed  empire  of  China,  they  discovered 
that  the  priceless  tissues  on  which,  at  that  time,  the 
dainty  dames  of  Byzantium  expended  princely  fortunes, 
were  not  combed  from  plants  or  distilled  from  Oriental 
dews,  but  were  the  produce  of  an  unsightly  caterpillar 
reared  from  a  tiny  egg.  So  important  did  they  deem  the 
discovery,  that,  big  with  the  secret,  they  traversed  the 
breadth  of  Asia  to  lay  it  at  the  feet  of  the  Emperor 
Justinian.  Recognising  its  importance,  he  persuaded 
them,  by  right  imperial  promises,  to  retrace  their  two 
years'  journey  and  bring  back  the  precious  eggs. 

Rivalling  in  cunning  the  crafty  Chinaman,  they  suc- 
ceeded, at  length,  in  filling  their  hollow  canes ;  and 
those  pilgrim  staves,  charged  with  a  freight  which  has 
proved  the  seed  of  untold  millions  of  wealth,  and  has 
changed  the  fate  and  industries  of  nations,  in  A.D.  552 
were  safely  landed  on  "  The  Golden  Horn."  Long  as 
they  had  remained  concealed,  the  eggs  were  hatched  at 
length,  and  fed  and  tended  by  the  monks  who  had  care- 
fully studied  their  culture. 

From  the  little  family  which  was  landed  at  the  Golden 


126  TINY   WORLD. 

Horn  hav6  sprung,  for  thirteen  hundred  years,  all  th* 
silkworms  of  Europe  and  of  Western  Asia.  Long,  how- 
ever, did  the  Greeks  retain  the  secret  of  their  culture 
with  a  jealousy  as  vigilant  as  that  of  the  Chinese ;  and  it 
was  not  until  eight  hundred  years  had  elapsed,  when  the 
Turk  was  thundering  at  the  gates  of  Byzantium,  and  the 
fleets  of  Genoa  and  Venice  were  harrying  the  fairest 
provinces  of  the  Greek  empire,  that  Koger  of  Sicily 
carried  off  from  the  cities  of  Greece  not  only  the  silk- 
worms, but  the  weavers,  and  compelled  them  to  impart 
their  mysteries  to  his  subjects. 

England  had  but  small  share  in  the  silk  of  the  East, 
for  we  read  that  the  first  time  it  was  seen  in  this  country 
was  when  the  Emperor  Charlemagne  presented  Offa,  king 
of  Mercia,  with  a  royal  gift  of  two  silken  vests.  But 
from  Sicily  the  culture  soon  spread  over  all  the  countries 
bordering  on  the  Mediterranean  where  the  mulberry-tree 
would  flourish :  and  though  Queen  Mary  forbade  by 
law  any  person  under  the  rank  of  an  alderman's  wife  to 
indulge  in  a  silken  garment,  and  Queen  Elizabeth  was 
especially  vain  of  the  silken  hose  she  received  from  Spain, 
the  envy  of  her  maids  of  honour ;  yet  only  a  century 
later,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  it  was  the  complaint  of 
patriots,  that  every  servant  maid  in  London  spent  half 
her  wages  in  silk,  to  swsll  the  revenue  of  the  king  of 
France. 


SILK   AND    SILKWOKMS. 


PART  II. 

TT  is  strange,  and  almost  unaccountable,  how,  for  so  many 
J-  centuries,  the  origin  and  culture  of  silk  remained  so 
profound  a  mystery.  For  though  it  is  not  mentioned 
by  Solomon,  and  we  do  not  read  that  his  ships  of  Tarshish 
brought  bales  of  silk  along  with  the  ivory  and  peacocks, 
yet  the  very  earliest  writer  on  natural  history  whose 
works  have  come  down  to  us,  Aristotle,  the  tutor  and 
friend  of  Alexander  the  Great,  has  given  us  (B.C.  325)  a 
very  accurate  account  of  the  origin  of  the  precious  tissue. 
He  tells  us  it  is  spun  by  a  horned  worm,  which  passes 
through  many  transformations,  and » finally  becomes  a 
winged  moth. 

But  truth  is  often  stranger  than  fiction. 

The  story  that  so  beautiful  a  texture  could  be  produced 
from  a  creeping  worm  was  too  absurd  to  be  believed ; 
and  until  the  cocoons  were  actually  spun  in  the  West,  the 


1-28 


IINY    WORLD. 


tales  of  gossamers  floating  in  the  air,  or  combed  down 
from  silk  trees,  were  thought  far  more  reasonable. 

There  is  no  country  which  those  little  eggs  from  within 
the  pilgrims'  staff  have  so  wonderfully  transformed,  as 
the  old  mountains  of  Lebanon.  When  Solomon  was  filling 
Jerusalem  with  all  the  strange  curiosities  of  India,  and 
the  Holy  Land  was  one  vast  garden  studded  with  towns 
and  villages,  the  long  range  of  the  Lebanon  was  one 
mighty  cedar-forest;  very  valuable  indeed  for  building 
temples  and  palaces,  but  inhabited  by  bears  and  wild 
goats  instead  of  by  men. 

Now,  all  has  been  changed. 

The  cedar-trees  have  been  cut  down,  and  it  is  only  here 
and  there,  in  some  wild  corner,  that  the  traveller  can  find 
them.  The  wild  beasts  have  all  been  hunted  away ;  and 
while  the  rich  towns  of  Solomon  have  for  the  most  part 
become  desolate  heaps,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  villages 
have  ceased  in  Israel,  there  are  actually  more  people 
crowded  amongst  the  valleys  and  rocks  of  the  Lebanon 
than  are  now  to  be  found  through  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  Holy  Land. 

The  silkworm  has  done  it  all.  It  was  soon  discovered 
by  the  industrious  Syrians,  that  the  Lebanon  was  exactly 
the  country  which  suited  the  mulberry-tree,  on  the  leaves 
of  which  alone  the  silkworms  could  be  fed.  In  so  hilly  a 
country,  garden  ground  is  very  precious ;  but  the  mui 
berry-tree  strikes  its  roots  so  deep,  that  they  do  not 
interfere  at  all  with  the  crops  of  carrots,  cucumbers,  and 
onions  which  grow  under  the  shade.  Then,  again,  if  the 


BILK   AND   SILKWORMS.  181 

worms  are  to  be  healthy,  they  must  he  fed  on  leaves 
grown  in  dry  places;  for  though  they  will  eat  very 
greedily  of  the  large  succulent  leaves  of  trees  grown  in 
valleys  and  wet  places,  yet  they  often  suffer  from  them, 
and  the  silk  is  not  so  good.  The  noble  cedars  have  all 
been  cleared  away,  and  the  homely  mulberry  has  taken 
their  place. 

Up  and  down  the  valleys  the  traveller  passes  for  several 
days'  journey  along  rocky  mule  paths,  that  are  more 
like  staircases  than  roads,  with  villages  curiously  hidden 
in  clefts  of  the  rocks ;  and  churches  (for  the  people  here 
are  Christians)  stuck  on  to  the  sides  of  the  cliffs,  with 
their  flat  roofs  covered  with  turf  and  grazed  by  kids, 
while  rows  of  mulberry-trees  swathe  the  mountains  from 
top  to  bottom  with  closely-set  waving  strips  of  green. 
I  call  the  mulberry  a  homely  tree,  for  it  is  never  allowed 
there  to  indulge  its  own  taste  for  growth,  but  is  pollarded 
to  the  height  of  from  six  to  eight  feet,  whence  springs  a 
dense  thicket  of  small  shoots,  very  useful  and  convenient, 
though  not  very  ornamental. 

It  is  a  bright  and  cheerful  scene  to  visit  the  Lebanon 
in  the  height  of  the  silk  season.  There  is  no  school  then 
for  either  boys  or  girls  ;  all  are  too  busy  in  attending  to 
the  hungry  little  worms.  As  we  ride  along  we  are 
startled  by  the  cuckoo  cry  of  a  little  urchin,  ensconced 
in  the  centre  of  the  dumpy  pollard.  There  he  sits,  busily 
engaged  in  shredding  the  leaves  within  his  reach,  and 
throwing  them  to  the  ground,  and  his  merry  face,  with 
his  red  cap  and  black  eyes,  peers  from  out  of  the  foliage, 


132  TINY    WOULD. 

enjoying  a  saucy  joke  at  the  "  howadji "  as  they  pass 
Beneath,  the  little  sisters  of  the  family  are  gathering  up 
the  leaves  and  heaping  them  into  sheets,  while  even  the 
little  toddler  of  three  years  old  looks  proudly  conscious 
of  the  dignity  of  labour  and  employment,  as  she  stumbles 
along  with  her  little  contribution  to  the  common  stock. 
The  elder  girls  are  staggering  home  under  their  bulky  but 
not  oppressive  loads,  and  one  taller  than  the  rest  stands 
on  a  pair  of  rustic  steps,  and  strips  the  twigs  that  are 
beyond  the  reach  t  f  the  merry  boy  in  his  nest. 

But  it  is  when  the  leaves  have  been  brought  home  that 
the  most  constant  care  is  required.  In  the  garden  behind 
each  cottage  stands  a  large  wooden  erection,  a  sort  of 
stage  of  laths,  thatched  to  the  height  of  about  six  feet, 
with  the  green  boughs  of  the  oleander.  The  stage  is  full 
of  trays  from  top  to  the  bottom,  which  slide  in  and  out, 
about  six  inches  apart.  On  these  trays  the  little  worms 
are  placed  as  soon  as  they  are  hatched. 

Here  is  the  station  of  the  housewife  from  morning  till 
night.  She  draws  out  the  trays  one  by  one,  clears  away  the 
refuse,  and  picks  out  any  diseased  or  dead  insects, 
strewing  the  whole  with  the  fresh-picked  leaves  which 
the  children  supply,  and  carefully  screening  the  cater- 
pillars from  the  sun,  as  they  always  feed  on  the  underside 
of  the  leaves.  The  fresh  green  roof  and  the  opeu-latticed 
sides  secure  abundant  ventilation  and  coolness  even 
under  a  Syrian  summer  sun.  There,  unlike  the  coldei 
region  of  France,  no  artificial  heat  is  required  for  the 
development  of  the  eggs ;  and,  from  the  first  age  to  thi 


SILK    AND    SILKWORMS.  135 

fifth,  the  caterpillars  continue  to  grow  and  thrive  without 
any  further  care  than  air,  food,  and  cleanliness,  provided 
for  them  in  this  simple  way. 

In  little  more  than  a  month,  the  worms,  as  tired  of 
eating  as  a  schoolboy  towards  the  end  of  his  holidays, 
begin  to  leave  the  trays  and  creep  up  the  sides  of  the 
lattices.  They  are  then  left  alone,  and  allowed  to  spin 
in  •  peace  and  quiet  on  tufts  of  grass  which  are  placed  at 
the  corners  of  the  trays.  And  now  the  silkworm's  life  is 
ended,  for  scarce  one  in  a  hundred  is  allowed  to  leave  its 
little  case  alive.  A  few  of  the  cocoons  are  laid  aside  to 
be  pierced  in  due  time  by  the  chrysalis,  to  supply  the 
eggs  for  next  year.  The  others  are  gathered  and  baked, 
lest  the  insect  should  eat  its  way  out  before  the  family 
have  had  time  to  unwind  the  silk.  This  unwinding  forms 
the  employment  of  the  Lebanon  household  during  the 
early  winter. 

The  cocoons  are  laid  aside  until  the  grapes  and  the 
olives  have  been  gathered,  and  then  the  process  begins. 
It  is  there  performed  in  a  very  simple^  fashion,  just  as 
children  do  it  at  home ;  about  half-a-dozen  cocoons  being 
unwound  as  the  children  stand  in  a  circle  round  the  basin 
of  hot  water  which  contains  a  handful  of  the  golden  balls. 

The  little  bobbins  of  silk  are  then  weighed,  and  the 
village  muleteer,  when  he  hears  that  the  roads  are  safe, 
and  that  there  are  no  robbers  in  the  neighbourhood,  takes 
his  precious  freight  to  Damascus,  and  returns,  if  he  i?  not 
plundered  by  the  way,  laden  with  the  profits  which  are  to 
provide  all  the  simple  luxuries  of  the  village  for  tin 


136  TINY    WORLD. 

coming  year.  For  strength,  for  toughness,  for  solidity, 
the  ladies  tell  us  there  is  no  silk  like  that  of  Damascus, 
and  it  is  all  grown  by  the  mountaineers  of  Lebanon. 

The  silk  bazaars  of  Damascus  are  among  the  wonders 
of  the  Eastern  world,  and  many  little  arched  streets  run 
out  of  them,  covered  over  from  the  light  of  day,  where 
hundreds  of  hand-looms  are  busily  employed  in  weaving 
the  beautiful  shawls  and  girdles  which  every  Turkish 
gentleman  wears  round  his  head  and  waist,  in  which 
every  English  traveller  who  visits  that  eldest  of  the  cities 
of  the  world  is  sure  to  invest  all  the  cash  he  has  in  his 
pocket — if  he  have  any  sisters  or  daughters  at  home. 

Of  course,  in  more  highly  civilised  countries,  like 
France  and  Italy,  the  rearing  of  silkworms  is  carried  on 
after  a  very  much  more  scientific  and  artistic  fashion  ; 
but  I  do  not  think  it  is  nearly  so  interesting  to  watch  as 
the  happy  industry  of  Hazrun,  or  any  other  village  of  the 
Lebanon. 

In  England,  though  we  rear  no  silkworms,  yet 
the  silk  manufactory  is  a  very  important  branch  of 
industry.  Two  important  towns,  Coventry  and  Maccles- 
field,  almost  depend  upon  it ;  and  many  thousands  of 
industrious  artisans  are  employed  in  Spitalfields,  in  the 
east  of  London,  in  the  same  manufacture.  Our  silk  is 
chiefly  imported  from  Italy,  for  the  French  weave  nearly 
the  whole  of  their  own  produce  ;  but  our  silk- weavers 
are,  for  the  most  part,  the  descendants  of  French  Pro- 
testants, who  wore  driven  from  their  own  country  by 
Louis  XIV.  at  the  cruel  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes, 


SILK    AND    SILKWOKMS. 


137 


which  had  promised  toleration  to  the  Protestants.  That 
wicked  revocation,  whilst  it  deprived  France  of  many  of 
her  best  artisans,  who  fled  in  terror  to  other  and  freer 
lands,  was  the  means  of  spreading  a  valuable  industry,  of 
which  those  who  decreed  that  measure  had  little  foresight. 


A.    THE    BOMBYX    MORI   MOTH.      B.     ITS  COCOON.       C.    THE   OLEANTHU8 
MOTH. 

The  exiles  brought  with  them  improvements  in  the  manu- 
facture into  England,  and  have  enabled  our  silks  to  hold 
their  place  in  the  markets  of  the  world. 

Though  the  little  Boiubyx  mori  is  the  silk  moth  with 
which  we   are  best  acquainted,  yet  there  are  many  other 


138  TINY   WOBLE. 

silk-producing  caterpillars.  Some  of  these,  which  have 
long  been  cultivated  in  Japan,  and  are  much  larger  than 
the  mulberry  moth,  feed  on  the  oak,  and  other  trees  more 
hardy  than  the  mulberry.  One  of  them,  in  the  Himalayas, 
produces  a  silk  which,  under  the  name  of  Tusseh,  is  used 
largely  for  clothing  in  India.  Another  Japanese  silk- 
worm, which  feeds  on  the  oelanthus,  has  lately  been 
introduced  into  Europe,  and  produces  a  coarse  silk 
scarcely  inferior  to  that  of  the  mulberry  moth. 

But  tliere  are  other  moths  which  spin  silk  in  great  aban- 
dance,  though,  unfortunately,  without  any  consideration 
for  the  needs  or  tastes  of  mankind.  Thus,  in  our  fields, 
we  may  often  see,  in  early  autumn,  a  whole  network  of 
glossy  fcilk,  stretching  like  a  canopy  from  the  heads  of  the 
taller  stems  of  grass,  and  covering  a  space  of  two  or 
three  square  feet.  This  is  the  umbrella  of  what  are 
called  the  umbrella- spinning  caterpillars.  They  particu- 
larly dislike  to  expose  their  bodies  to  a  shower  of  ra\n, 
and  so,  when  they  have  found  an  agreeable  feeding 
ground,  they  combine  in  spinning  a  screen  which  shall 
protect  them  from  the  sun  and  rain,  while  they  devour  at 
leisure  the  herbage  beneath. 

Akin  to  these,  so  far  as  they  work  in  common,  are 
what  are  called  the  sociable  procession  moths ;  the 
caterpillars  of  which  may  be  often  seen  in  oak  coppices, 
marching  by  night  in  regular  order  like  files  of  soldiers, 
all  moving  in  exact  order,  one  after  another  till  they  have 
found  a  feeding  branch,  and  then  returning  before  day- 
break with  the  same  regularity.  These  creatures  hang  to 


SILK  AND   SILKWORMS.  139 

the  stem  or  amongst  the  branches  of  the  oak,  large  silken 
bags  in  which  they  remain  secure  during  the  day,  lying 
heaped  upon  one  another,  till  sunset  calls  them  again  to 
the  march.  But  the  silk  of  all  these  sociable  moths  is  too 
short  and  scanty  to  be  of  use  in  commerce. 

Silkworms,  like  larger  beings,  have  many  diseases,  and 
many  learned  doctors  have  prescribed  for  their  treatment. 
Some  of  these  diseases  appear  to  be  very  infectious,  and 
three  years  ago  an  epidemic  in  Lombardy  destroyed 
nearly  the  whole  crop  of  the  year. 

They  suffer  most  at  the  time  when  they  change  into 
their  last  moult,  and  it  is  then  that  the  nurses  are  obliged 
to  watch  them  most  closely.  Sometimes  they  writhe 
about,  as  if  in  acute  agony,  and  at  others  they  seem 
struck  with  paralysis.  But  I  am  afraid  many  of  these 
diseases  are  the  consequence  of  their  own  greediness,  for 
it  is  the  worms  which  have  eaten,  most  and  become  most 
fat,  that  fall  victims  to  it.  It  appears  that  there  is  a 
curious  microscopic  fungus  wfyich  takes  root  on  their  soft 
bodies,  is  nourished  by  their  fat,  and  soon  turns  the 
living  animal  into  a  miniature  mushroom  bed.  The 
animal  soon  turns  red  and  dies. 

The  silkworm  is  not  the  only  caterpillar  on  which 
vegetables  seem  to  grow.  We  have  had  sent  home  from 
New  Zealand  numbers  of  extraordinary  specimens,  each 
consisting  of  a  large  caterpillar,  hard  as  wood,  out  oi 
which  rises  a  stem  six  inches  in  length,  at  the  top  of 
which  is  the  fructification  and  seed  of  a  sort  of  moss. 
This  sphinx  of  nature  is,  after  all,  only  like  a  gigantio 


140  TINY   WOULD. 

muscadine,  the  name  given  to  the  silkworm  fungus.  Its 
little  seed  spores,  floating  in  the  air,  attach  themselves 
to  the  back  of  the  New  Zealand  caterpillar,  which  is  in 
the  habit  of  burying  itself  before  it  enters  the  chrysalis 
state  for  the  winter.  The  unconscious  insect,  little 
knowing  that  he  bears  upon  him  the  seeds  of  death, 
descends  in  due  time  to  his  living  tomb.  As  soon  as  he 
is  under  the  earth,  the  spore  begins  to  germinate,  and, 
drawing  all  its  nourishment  from  its  victim,  sends  its 
shoot  to  the  surface,  and  fills  the  whole  of  his  skin  with 
a  hard,  woody  substance,  which  is  its  root,  fed,  not  by 
the  moisture  of  the  earth,  but  by  the  flesh  of  the  cater- 
pillar. Its  root  never  breaks  the  skin,  and  as  soon  as 
the  whole  body  is  exhausted,  and  transformed  into  "hard 
fibre,  the  plant  itself  dies,  and  its  seeds  float  in  the  air, 
till,  perchance,  one  of  them  alights  on  the  fostering  back 
of  another  victim. 

To  trace  the  story  of  silkworms,  the  fate  of  their 
labours — whether  to  girdle  a  Sultan's  waist,  or  to  deck 
the  skirts  of  an  English  lady  ;  whether  they  are  to  form 
the  hangings  of  a  palace,  or  the  marker  of  a  pocket-book 
— would  be  far  too  long  a  task  either  to  writ*  or  to  read 
about  in  these  pages. 

Though  the  silkworm's  thread  may  stretch  for  a 
thousand  yards,  I  am  sure  my  readers  would  like  to 
pause  before  they  had  unwound  the  whole  of  it ;  still  less 
would  they  have  patience  were  our  yarn  to  extend  tf 
half  that  length. 


ABOUT  FLIES. 


ABOUT  FLIES. 


PART  I. 

"  Little  things  on  little  wings 
Bear  little  souls  to  heaven." 

AND  this  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  many  of  the 
greatest,  rather  let  me  say  of  the  largest,  of  things  ; 
for  greatness — true,  genuine  greatness — is  not  a  thing  of 
bulk  alone,  save  as  its  elasticity  can  be  alike  compressed 
into  the  microscopic  space  of  the  quasi-invisible,  or  can 
fill  a  space  which  our  minds  can  never  take  in.  Bo  also 
do  we  find  the  largest  amount  of  utility  in  the  smallest 
of  creatures,  while  the  hugest  of  beings  leaves  us  in 
admiring  doubt  as  to  the  amount  of  benefit  conferred  by 
it  on  the  creation,  which  it  seems  to  crown  if  not  to 
adorn. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  the  Fly,  poor  little  thing  ? 
What  use  is  it  of  in  that  "  economy  of  nature,"  whereof 
philosophy  boasts  the  power  of  explaining  the  hidden 


144  TINY    WORLD. 

workings  and  intricate  machinery  ?  To  what  extent  does 
the  buzzing  creature,  so  ruthlessly  poisoned,  so  suddenly 
dashed  to  the  ground,  preserve  that  "  balance  of  being," 
which  if  once  interrupted,  as  in  the  case  of  eagles  and 
the  falcons,  avenges  itself;  as  by  the  multiplication  of 
the  wild  pigeons,  rats,  and  other  devourers  of  the 
farmer's  produce  ? 

To  crawl  on  the  ceiling ;  to  buzz  about  our  heads  ;  to 
torment  us  by  their  numbers,  and  by  their  very  littleness  ; 
to  be  guarded  against  by  every  possible  manoeuvre,  avoided 
as  pests,  slaughtered  by  hundreds,  or  poisoned  by  the 
thousand — such  is  their  daily  lot ;  yet,  when  an  incautious 
straggler  visits  your  breakfast  table,  and  throwing  itself 
on  your  chivalrous  hospitality  for  a  sip  from  the  cream 
bowl,  falls  a  victim  to  its  temerity,  and  you  see  it  vainly 
struggling  to  escape  from  the  white  ocean  of  entangle- 
ment, how  carefully,  how  tenderly,  do  you  lift  it  thenee, 
lay  it  in  the  sunshine,  and  watch  its  heavy  limbs  regaining 
their  vitality !  how  do  you  rejoice  in  its  escape,  and 
triumph  in  its  flight,  though  so  soon  to  return,  ungrateful 
wretch,  to  torment  by  its  vagaries  the  fingers  that  erst 
so  daintily  spared  its  life  ;  to  haunt  your  gilded  cornices 
and  picture  frames ;  and,  finally,  to  fall  unpitied,  un- 
lamented,  a  victim  to  the  sugared  snares  which  have 
proved  fatal  to  the  myriads  of  his  brethren  !  Such  is  the 
episode  in  the  life  of  many  a  fly,  bringing  it  into  contact 
with  the  tender  humanities  and  inconsistent  ruthlessness 
of  mankind,  and  such  the  little  wings  that  waken,  or  for 
the  moment  call  into  action,  the  dormant  charities  of 


ABOUT   FLIES.  148 

your  soul.  May  these  hereafter  find  a  larger  scope, 
worthier  objects,  and  less  interrupted  success  ! 

Help  ever  the  helpless,  be  it  a  drowning  fly,  or  a 
brother  floundering  through  the  difficulties  of  life's  first 
tasks ;  and  down  the  long  vista  of  life  I  see  you,  with 
little  wings  and  slender  strength,  it  may  be,  for  it  needs 
not  vastness  of  resources  or  extent  of  power  to  minister 
such  heart  help  as  the  true-hearted  can  render. 

I  see  you  the  friend  of  the  friendless,  the  ungrate- 
ful and  ungracious ;  the  raiser  of  the  fallen,  though, 
perchance,  only  perversely  to  fall  again;  the  cheerer  of 
the  cheerless,  though  it  may  be  they  droop  again  when 
your  bright  presence  has  passed  away :  but  evermore,  a 
little  thing,  perhaps,  in  all  that  men  deem  great,  on  little 
wings  of  small  assistance,  bearing  little  souls — and  ever 
on  that  track  yourself — heavenward,  upward,  and  may  it 
be  to  heaven  itself,  where  true  greatness  and  true  little- 
ness are  mirrored  in  their  real  proportions.  Yes,  draw 
them  upward,  win  them  from  the  slough  of  despond ; 
bring  them,  as  best  you  may,  to  the  sunshine  of  better 
days,  and  see  to  it  tnat  heart  and  strength  revive  for 
efforts  in  the  right  direction,  which  to  men,  as  to  flies, 
are  the  only  safeguards  against  the  poisoned  footfalls 
that  await  the  weak  and  unwary. 

And  what  the  return  ?  Perhaps  nought.  In  helping 
your  helpless  fellow-man,  woman,  or  child,  you  may 
meet  with  that  rarest  of  graceful  things,  a  grateful 
heart,  while  yet  expecting  not ;  you  act  out  the  energies 
of  a  loving  nature,  as  in  saving  the  fly  you  simply 

L 


146  TINY   WORLD. 

gratify  a  benevolent  instinct,  for,  in  truth,  no  one  loves 
a  fly,  nor  may  we  suppose  that,  speaking  in  the  lan- 
guage of  men,  and  especially  of  women,  that  the  fly 
has  a  heart  at  all. 

In  aerial  nature  they  are  the  great  untaught,  unwashed, 
destitute  of  the  constructive,  imitative,  or  ornamental 
faculties  for  which  other  winged  things  are  noted.  They 
congregate  in  myriads,  when  they  please,  where  they 
please ;  or,  if  they  please,  they  walk  alone,  defying  our 


THE   BLOW-FLY.  THE   MOSQUITO.  THE   TZETZE. 

Natural  size.  Magnified. 

centres  of  gravity  by  a  promenade  feet  upwards  on  the 
ceiling,  or  up  and  down  the  glittering  surface  of  the  win- 
dow pane,  pursuing  objects  invisible  to  us,  following  be- 
hests unknown  to  all  besides,  and  apparently  responsible  to 
no  authority  for  the  fulfilment  of  any  of  their  duties  in  life. 
To  torment  in  various  modes  and  degrees,  from  the 
gentle  titillation  of  the  bluebottle — who  presumes  to  take 
his  exercise  on  your  cheek — to  the  maddening  irritation 
caused  b'y  the  fatal  bite  of  the  tropical  Tzetze,  appears  to 
be  a  law  of  their  nature ;  they  seem  to  be  creatures 
eminently  unwelcome,  and  of  whom  in  general  a  good 
riddance  is  the  siimmum  bonuni  of  our  wishes. 


ABOUT    FLIES.  147 

They  are,  in  fact,  very  negative  characters,  and,  lik« 
many  human  beings  of  whom  we  are  apt  to  think  that 
their  room  is  better  to  have  than  their  company,  we  have 
little  idea  what  they  save  us  from ;  these  city  Arabs  of 
the  air,  street-sweepers  of  the  invisible  atmosphere, 
scavengers  of  ethereal  poisons. 

Cause  and  effect  are  so  blundered  over  in  all  our  hasty 
notions  about  things  in  general,  that  we  can  be  in  no  way 
surprised  if  a  strange  jumble  should  often  exist  also  in 
our  judgments  as  to  cause  and  cure,  and  if  we  should 
sometimes  blame  for  the  very  evils  he  removes  the 
unfortunate  insect  whose  advent  portends  corruption, 
and  especially  our  old  friend  the  bluebottle,  if  in  his 
efforts  to  withdraw  from  use  that  food  which  is  becoming 
unfit  for  man,  he  calls  to  his  aid  the  fecundity  of  his 
nature,  and  takes  possession  of  our  viands  after  a  fashion 
peculiar  to  himself,  and  which  we  decline  to  dispute 
with  him.  The  evil  so  abhorrent  to  our  feelings  can  only 
be  laid  at  his  door,  in  a  sense  which  involves  its  speedy 
removal,  and  the  conferring  on  ourselves  a  very  real 
though  a  negative  blessing. 

Treated  much  in  the  same  manner  as  the  pariah  dogs 
of  the  East,  these  and  other  flies  are  yet  in  their  myriad 
winged  activities  no  less  the  scavengers  of  the  air  than 
those  despised  quadrupeds  are  of  the  earth,  and  happy 
may  it  be  for  ourselves  that  we  see  not  the  reverse 
of  the  picture  at  which  we  rail,  nor  find  ourselves  in 
some  sad  hour,  when  the  spider  proves  too  many  for 
the  fly,  surrounded  by  the  odours,  the  miasma,  and 


148  TINY   WORLD. 

the  pestilences  from  which  the  presence  cf  the  flj 
relieves  us. 

We  have  heard  of  vast  clouds  of  flies  attending  on  the 
course  taken  by  certain  epidemics ;  and  hence,  say  some, 
the  flies  have  brought  the  fever,  the  cholera,  &c.,  &c. 
Nay,  truly,  camp-followers  they  are,  on  these  fierce 
invaders,  not  predatory  hordes  themselves,  gathering  out 
from  the  air  all  that  could  offend,  relieving  the  earth  from 
many  of  the  death-inviting  miasmas  which  haunt  its 
surface  and  prowl  around  the  dwellings  of  careless  men, 
inviting  evermore  the  exterminating  breath  of  the  invader, 
and  hatching  a  camp  for  the  dwelling  of  disease. 

Though  to  make  friends  with  a  fly  were  a  vain  attempt, 
we  may  yet  bring  it  to  terms  of  very  close  acquaintance, 
and,  under  the  friendly  light  of  the  microscope,  discover 
that  it  is,  in  its  anatomy,  one  of  the  most  interesting 
objects  of  scientific  research,  and  in  such  close  analogy  to 
the  larger  animals,  that  a  similarity,  amounting  almost  to 
identity,  has  been  discovered  between  the  foot  of  a  fly 
and  the  hoof  of  the  rhinoceros.  Adapted,  doubtless,  both 
these  members  are  to  the  behests  of  their  owners,  though 
so  different ;  the  one  being  suited  for  the  slow  terrestrial 
locomotion  of  a  heavy  beast,  the  other  to  rambles  in  an 
imerted  position  on  the  ceiling  above  our  heads,  where, 
tinder  the  aspect  of  antics  and  evolutions  of  the  oddest 
description,  it  is  engaged  in  the  consumption  and  carrying 
away  of  many  a  fly-load  of  accretions  on  those  surfaces 
which  have  met  the  ascending  vapours  of  many  noxioui 
things. 


ABOUT    FLIES.  149 

The  scavenger  life  of  a  fly  in  that  phase  of  its  existence 
is  yet  a  very  short,  though,  by  us,  the  most  observed, 
period  of  its  existence.  We  call  them  torments,  crush 
them,  poison  them,  set  traps  for  them,  and  exult  in  their 
destruction,  and  then  save  the  stragglers  one  by  one,  just 
when,  in  old  age,  they  come  to  claim  our  hospitality,  and 
a  shelter  from  the  chill  winds  of  autumn,  having  deposited 
their  eggs  in  the  old  crannies  whence  erst  they  crawled 
themselves,  and  spent  their  early  days  among  the  fruit 
and  flowers,  or  (if  they  were  bluebottles)  among  the 


LARVA   OF   HOUSE-FLY.  HOUSE-FLY. 

Magnified  one-half.  Magnified  one-half. 


animal  decays  which  nourished  their  youth.  The  changes 
they  have  undergone  are  not  less  curious  than  those 
which  attend  the  more  interesting  creatures  whom 
we  watch,  as  caterpillars,  cocoons,  or  moths — yet 
unobserved,  save  by  the  most  ardent  students  of  nature, 
let  them,  say  we,  remain ;  over  the  early  life  of  a  fly  let 
us  draw  a  veil. 

A  busy,  active,  and  indeed  useful  life,  it  is,  like' that 
of  all  scavengers,  from  the  pariah  dog  to  the  crossing- 
sweeper,  and  with  much  more  to  laugh  and  grow 


150  TINY    WORLD. 

fat  upon  than  the  latter,  poor  fellow,  ever  enjoys ;  yet  its 
diet  is  uninviting  its  form  repulsive,  we  shudder  to  think 
of  it,  we  name  it  not.  Like  some  of  the  more  despised 
yet  useful  members  of  the  human  family,  they  Tar  out- 
number the  more  attractive  individuals,  and  that  they  are 
designed  to  fulfil  no  insignificant  part  in  nature  may  bo 
gathered  from  the  fact  that  from  one  mother  not  less  than 
twenty  thousand  living  sons  and  daughters  are  known  to 
have  descended. 

Between  the  early  life  of  the  fly  in  this  caterpillar  form 
and  its  subsequent  aerial  existence  there  seems  to  be  less 
connection  than  between  the  earlier  and  later  life  of  any 
other  insect. 

There  is  not  one  point  of  resemblance  either  in 
outward  form  or  in  inward  structure  between  the  white, 
soft,  pulpy,  eyeless  and  legless  body  which  has  twisted 
and  wriggled  through  its  blind  career,  and  the  restless, 
buzzing  tormentor  which  dances  merrily  in  the  sunshine. 
The  one  does  not  seem  to  grow  out  of  the  other,  but  to 
be  suddenly  transformed,  when  the  little  creature  leaps 
forth  to  its  new  life.  Its  white  skin  becomes  dark- 
coloured  and  hard  as  soon  as  it  has  reached  its  full  size, 
and  forms  a  case  within  which  the  unseen  change  goes 
rapidly  on. 

If  we  counted  the  rings  of  which  we  observe  the 
larva  is  composed,  we  should  find  that  they  are  always 
seventeen  in  number.  Now  these  rings  or  segments  each 
go  to  make  up  some  part  of  the  perfect  insect,  but  not 
always  in  the  same  order  in  which  they  are  now  arranged. 


ABOUT   FLIES.  151 

In  fact  the  fly,  in  becoming  one,  turns  itself  partly  inside 
out,  after  the  fashion  of  the  clever  snake  which  the 
showman  said  could  swallow  himself,  beginning  by 
putting  his  tail  into  his  mouth.  The  first  three  rings 
form  the  mouth,  this  important  member  taking  up  its  fair 
share  of  the  whole ;  the  next  two  form  the  antennae  or 
feelers  by  which  the  fly  exercises  the  sense  of  smell,  and 
the  eyes ;  the  sixth,  seventh,  and  eighth  form  the  thorax 
or  throat,  by  which  it  breathes,  and  to  which  are  attached 
the  wings  and  the  three  pair  of  legs ;  while  the  nine  last 
form  that  most  important  part  of  the  body,  the  stomach. 

But  in  the  fly,  while  the  mouth  is  formed  from  the  first 
segments,  the  head  is  formed  from  the  rings  behind  from 
the  fourth  to  the  eighth.  The  brain  (for  the  fly  really 
has  a  brain)  is  the  only  part  that  remains  the  same  in 
substance  though  quite  changed  in  form,  while  all  the 
other  parts  of  the  new  animal  grow  round  it. 

As  soon  as  the  perfect  insect  is  ready  to  come  forth  it 
splits  the  old  dried  shell  in  front,  doubles  itself  up,  and 
so  cracks  it  along  its  whole  length  below,  when  it  sallies 
forth  with  very  stunted  wings,  which  in  a  few  minutes, 
while  the  newly-exposed  skin  is  becoming  dry,  quickly 
grow,  until  after  a  little  flapping  and  fanning  the  fly  finds 
it  can  mount  into  air,  and  starts  on  its  new  life. 


ABOUT  FLIES. 


PART  II. 

AND  now,  if  we  proceed  to  examine  the  transformed 
fly,  we  shall  find  wonders  in  its  construction  equal 
to  any  of  those  revealed  to  us  in  the  anatomy  of  the 
largest  and  most  complex  quadrupeds. 

We  have  often  seen  a  fly,  walking  upon  the  ceiling  or 
running  up  a  smooth  pane  of  glass,  and  we  may  have 
wondered  how  it  managed  not  only  to  hold  on,  but  to  run 
about  so  nimbly.  An  examination  of  that  wonderful 
machine,  a  fly's  foot,  by  a  powerful  microscope,  will 
explain  the  whole  of  the  very  simple  contrivance  by 
which  it  seems  to  set  the  laws  of  gravitation  at  defiance. 

There  have  been  several  clever  guesses.  Some  have 
fancied  that  the  hairs  on  its  foot  could  take  advantage  of 
the  slightest  irregularity  of  surface ;  others  that  the  foot 
was  furnished  with  a  natural  air-pump  by  which  the  air 
in  its  hollow  was  exhausted,  and  that  it  thus  clung  like  a 


ABOUT    FLIES. 


153 


cupping-glass  when  applied  to  the  flesh  by  the  pressure 
of  the  atmosphere  outside. 

Now,  if  with  a  microscope  we  examine  the  foot, 
we  shall  find  it  to  be  composed  of  a  pair  of  pads  with  a 
pair  of  hooks  above  them,  and  the  pads  clothed  with  a 
number  of  very  fine  short  hairs.  Each  pad  is  hollow, 
with  a  little  nipple  projecting  into  it.  Behind  the  nipple 
is  a  bag  connected  with  it,  filled  with  a  very  clear, 
transparent  gum.  This  gum,  which  is  quite  liquid, 
exudes  from  the  nipple  by  the 
pressure  of  the  insect  in  walking, 
and  fills  the  hollow.  The  hairs 
are  also  hollow,  with  trumpet- 
shaped  mouths ;  and  these  are 
also  thus  filled  with  the  gum. 
This  gum  becomes  hard  the 
moment  it  is  exposed  to  the  air, 
and  will  not  dissolve  in  water. 
Thus,  at  every  step,  the  fly  glues 
itself  to  the  surface ;  and  so 

tenacious  is  the  gum  that  one  foot  is  quite  sufficient  to 
bear  the  weight  of  the  whole  suspended  body.  If  we 
examine  the  footprints  of  a  fly  on  a  window-pane  by 
a  powerful  magnifier,  we  shall  find  that  each  footmark 
consists  of  rows  of  dots  corresponding  to  the  hairs  on  the 
footpads ;  in  fact,  the  footprint  is  merely  the  traces  of  the 
gum  that  have  been  left  behind. 

But  how  is  it  that  the  fly  is  not  glued  for  life  to  the 
spot  at  the  very  first  step  it  takes  ? 


UNDERSIDE    OF    FOOT    OP 
BLOW-FLY. 


154  TINY   WORLD. 

Doubtless  it  might  be  so,  if  it  tried  to  lift  up  its  foot 
directly  in  a  perpendicular  direction ;  but  it  draws  it  up 
gently  in  a  slanting  direction,  detaching  the  hairs  in  single 
rows,  just  as  we  might  remove  a  moist  postage-stamp  by 
beginning  at  one  corner  and  gently  drawing  it  back. 
When,  however,  the  insect  is  diseased,  the  gum  is  very 
apt  to  harden,  and  at  its  death  it  at  once  becomes 
solid. 

Thus  we  may  often  see  a  dead  fly  firmly  attached 
to  the  wall,  or  to  a  window-pane  with  a  dull-coloured 
mark  on  the  glass.  This  is  caused  by  the  fluid  having 
glued  the  weak  or  sickly  insect  to  its  last  resting-place, 
and  having  then  hardened,  the  fly  is  cemented  to  the 
spot,  till  it  decays  away,  leaving  the  legs  behind.  So 
very  small  are  these  trumpet- shaped  hairs,  that  there  dre 
more  than  1,000  on  each  footpad.  We  may  add  that 
moths,  beetles,  and  all  other  insects  have  the  same  kind 
of  gum  secreted  under  their  footpads. 

Not  less  wonderful  is  the  brain,  or  rather  that  which 
stands  for  it  in  the  fly. 

Yet  whilst  we  have  spoken  of  the  brain  of  a  fly, 
it  must  not  be  thought  that  insects  have  brains  like 
the  higher  animals.  In  all  these  there  is  a  large  mass 
of  brain  protected  by  the  skull,  from  which  the  spinal  cord 
or  marrow,  which  is  a  sort  of  continuation  of  the  brain, 
extends  to  the  extremity  of  the  backbone.  Insects  have 
nothing  like  this,  though  they  have  what  answers  the 
same  purpose  in  their  organization.  They  have  what  are 
called  ganglions,  or  large  clusters  of  nerves,  from  which 


ABOUT    FLIES. 


155 


fine  threads  run  in  different  directions.  But  instead  of 
their  being  collected  into  one  centre,  there  are  different 
groups  of  them  in  different  parts  of  the  body  :  those  of  the 
head  supplying  the  different  organs  of  sense,  the  mouth, 
the  eyes,  and  the  antennae  by  which  they  smell ;  those  of 
the  thorax  or  middle  section  of  the  insect  supplying  the 
place  of  the  heart,  and  being  the  nerve-centre  of  animal 
life  ;  while  another  set  supply  the  stomach. 

From  this  separation  it  happens  that  the  life  of  an  insect 
chiefly  depends  on  the  thorax  or  middle  part.  If  this  is 
crushed,  the  fly  is  instantly 
killed,  and  there  is  not  the 
slightest  motion  afterwards.  But 
if  the  head  be  cut  off,  while  this 
ceases  to  move  or  to  show  any 
sensibility,  the  body  will  move 
for  hours.  If  breathed  upon  or 
touched  with  a  needle,  there  will 
be  an  attempt  to  run  or  fly ;  if 
dust  or  water  be  dropped  either 
on  the  legs  or  abdomen,  the  feet 
will  at  once  begin  to  rub  it  off. 
This  seems  to  prove  that  these  movements  of  the  insect 
are  at  all  times  not  the  result  of  intelligence,  but  simply 
involuntary  natural  actions. 

But  yet  there  may  be  some  intelligence  even  in  a  fly. 
Its  substitutes  for  a  brain,  called  the  cephalic  //<7m//m,  are 
fur  larger  than  those  of  any  other  insect  except  the  bees 
and  ants,  and  are  thirty  times  larger  than  the  correspond- 


HEAD    OF   HOUSE-FLY 

(Magnified). 


166  fINY   WORLD. 

mg  organs  in  a  beetle  of  the  same  size.  In  Fees,  waspsk 
ants,  and  flies  have  been  discovered  what  have  not  yet 
been  found  in  other  insects,  a  pair  of  nerve-centres,  on 
the  top  of  the  cephalic  (or  head)  ganglia,  which  anato- 
mists suppose  to  answer  to  the  brain  lobes  in  higher 
animals. 

Perhaps  this  is  the  reason  why  the  fly  seems 
to  show  some  intelligence,  at  least  memory,  in  avoiding 
any  one  who  has  been  chasing  it.  At  any  rate  from 
these  centres  proceed  the  nerves  which  run  to  its  lips 
and  enable  it  to  taste,  and  to  its  eyes  and  antennae  and 
enable  it  to  see  and  smell.  All  the  senses  are  very 
highly  developed  in  insects,  more  so  than  in  higher 
creatures  ;  and  this  renders  it  the  more  probable  that 
their  acts  are  for  the  most  part  caused  by  impressions 
from  without,  just  as  we  shut  our  eyes  when  anything 
approaches  them,  or  suddenly  withdraw  our  hands  from 
a  burning  substance. 

Of  all  the  organs  of  sense  in  the  fly,  the  eye  is  the  om 
most  like  the  corresponding  organ  in  other  animals,  and 
it  is  far  more  powerful  than  in  any  of  them.  To  see  as 
well  as  the  fly,  which  can  observe  everything  in  four- 
fifths  of  the  circle  round  it,  we  should  require  two  more 
pair  of  eyes,  in  the  side  and  at  the  back  of  our  head. 
In  the  fly,  no  two  facets  or  eye-discs  look  towards  the 
same  spot ;  and  we  must  remember  that  the  insect's  eye 
is  not  a  simple  eye,  but  a  vast  collection  of  eyes  in  one 
head  looking  in  all  directions  at  the  same  time.  There 
are  between  4.000  and  5,000  of  these  little  lenses,  cuoi 


ABOUT   FLIES.  157 

of  them  a  thousandth  part  of  an  inch  in  diametpT,  and 
set  in  a  six-sided  flat  frame  ;  and  behind  r7&/y  /a,cet  or 
lens  is  a  transparent  cone  with  a  nerve  f/om  .Hs  point  to 
the  ganglion  or  brain. 

We  cannot  be  quite  sure  that  flies  smell  by  meanp  oi 
their  antennae ;  but  if  they  are  cut  off  the  insect  seems 
quite  helpless  ;  and  from  its  uses  of  these  feelers  it  seems 
likely  they  are  the  organs  of  this  sense.  That  they  can 
hear  we  may  conclude  from  their  power  of  emitting 
sounds,  and  from  the  way  in  which  they  will  disappear 
if  one  of  their  companions  is  caught  and  makes  the  shar/ 
piteous  drumming  cry  they  send  forth  when  in  pain  or 
fright. 

But  no  one  has  yet  discerned  the  outward  ear  or 
organ  of  hearing  in  this  insect,  though  it  has  been 
believed  that  their  ears  are  just  behind  their  wings,  in 
the  thorax  instead  of  the  head.  These  are  what  are 
called  the  halteres,  and  are  in  the  place  where  the  second 
pair  of  wings  are  fixed  in  bees,  ants,  and  other  hymenop- 
terous  insects. 

We  might  go  on  page  after  page  to  describe  the 
wonderful  anatomy  of  the  fly,  as  the  microscope  has 
revealed  it  to  us.  In  fact,  there  is  as  much  to  be  said 
about  it  as  about  the  body  of  man,  and  perhaps  more, 
for  its  organs  are  more  numerous  and  more  complex. 
Not  only  has  it  4,000  eyes  instead  of  two  ;  three  sets  of 
brain  or  nerve-centres  instead  of  one ;  1,000  hairs  and 
two  claws  instead  of  toes  on  its  foot ;  it  has  also  wings, 
which  we  have  not ;  three  pairs  of  legs  instead  of  one ; 


158 


TINY    WORLD. 


a  mouth  which  would  bewilder  any  dentist ;  and  a  pro- 
boscis as  far  beyond  that  of  an  elephant  in  complexity  of 
structure  as  a  railway  engine  is  beyond  a  wheelbarrow. 
But  we  hope  we  have  said  enough  to  excite  your 
curiosity  and  your  admiration  of  the  works  of  God, 


A  PLAGUE    OF   FLIB6  IN   THE   TROPICS. 

which  are  as  perfect  and  sublime  in  the  tiniest  thing  that 
creeps  as  in  the  great  worlds  that  whirl  through  space. 

Of  one  thing  we  may  be  quite  sure,  that  even  flies 
were  not  made  for  nothing,  and  that  a  great  many  much 
larger  beings  would  do  very  badly  without  them.  They 


ABOUT   FLIES.  15U 

are  often  very  troublesome,  they  may  be  and  bave  indeed 
been  plagues,  and  certainly  in  many  hot  countries  thej 
are  great  plagues  at  some  times  of  the  year.  But  it 
is  just  when  they  are  the  greatest  plagues  that  they  at 
the  same  time  are  most  useful.  Of  course,  if  every  fly 
mother  reared  20,000  offsprings,  and  every  daughter  of 
hers  reared  as  many,  there  would  soon  be  no  room  for 
anything  else  in  the  world  but  flies,  and  then  the  flies 
must  die  out  of  starvation.  But  it  is  not  so  intended. 

Living  and  dying,  the  fly  has  its  uses.  Dying,  it  supplies 
the  food  not  only  of  the  spiders,  who  must  live  like  other 
things,  and  would  fare  badly  if  no  incautious  fly  glued 
its  feet  in  their  web,  but  it  is  the  direct  support  and 
dependence  of  thousands  of  our  special  favourites. 

How  dull  would  be  our  lanes  and  fields  without  swal- 
lows and  martins  skimming  over  them,  or  our  hedgerows 
without  the  little  song-birds  which  come  back  with  the 
spring  to  refresh  themselves  and  roar  their  young  in 
oar  northern  home,  after  a  winter's  sojourn  in  the  deserts 
or  forests  or  marshes  of  Africa !  Yet  these  feed  almost 
entirely  on  flies.  The  swallow,  whoso  appetite  is  as 
large  as  its  mouth,  needs  myriads  for  its  sustenance, 
and  darts  through  the  air  for  hours  without  a  pause, 
snapping  up  the  flies  in  its  course. 

The  little  willow- wren  darts  up  into  the  air,  and  as  it 
hovers,  snap,  snap  goes  its  beak,  while  one  fly  after 
another  is  secured,  till  the  swarm  tha.t  buzzed  over  the 
hedgerow  is  scattered,  and  the  little  sportsman  alights 
again,  till  very  soon  the  incautious  cloud  is  dancing 


160  TINT   WORLD. 

over  the  fatal  spot  again,  and  invites  him  from  his 
retreat  to  collect  another  savoury  mouthful. 

The  pretty  graceful  fly-catcher  of  our  gardens  adopts 
a  more  dignified  mode,  and  sits  motionless  on  its  perch  at 
the  end  of  a  branch,  or  on  the  top  of  a  peastick,  its  keen 
eye  keeping  an  eager  watch,  till  it  sees  an  unsuspicious 
fly  approach,  when  with  a  dart  it  shoots  forth  and  seizes 
him,  but  always-  returns  to  its  perch  to  swallow  each 
morsel,  as  though  it  disdained  to  gobble  up  its  food 
without  due  consideration. 

Chameleons,  and  many  other  'of  the  innumerable  lizards 
that  swarm  in  all  hot  countries,  secure  an  ample  sus- 
tenance with  even  less  exertion  than  this,  for  they  sit 
contentedly  on  a  bough,  and  only  shoot  out  their  gummy 
tongue  at  the  fly  that  buzzes  near  them.  The  toad,  too, 
is  fain  to  content  himself  with  what  he  can  catch  on  the 
tip  of  his  tongue.  But  as  he  is  not  fond  of  bright  sunny 
situations,  it  is  well  for  him  that  his  appetite  is  not  very 
voracious,  for  he  has  to  practise  as  much  patience  as  an 
angler,  before  he  can  induce  a  curious,  incautious  fly  to 
come  and  examine  his  nose.  Wasps,  too,  feed  largely  on 
flies,  as  we  may  see  by  the  heaps  of  flies'  wings  strewn 
round  a  wasps'  nest.  And  if  the  trout  had  not  discovered 
what  a  savoury  morsel  is  the  fly  that  dances  on  the 
stream,  what  a  very  dull,  stupid  amusement  would  fishing 
be !  There  would  never  have  been  the  ingenuity  which 
humbugs  the  fish  by  covering  the  hook  with  the  feathers 
so  neatly  fastened  together,  to  imitate  the  living  fly,  and 
tfca  skill  that  makes  the  little  cheat  dance  so  lively  on  the 


ABOUT    FLIES. 


161 


water,  that  the  trout  must  come  to  look  at  it,  and  is  very 
soon  safely  landed  on  the  grassy  bank.  How  many  a 
schoolboy  would  lose  the  greatest  treat  of  a  summer's 


ARTIFICIAL   FLIES   FOR   FISHING. 


holiday,  if  there  were   no  flies,  and  no  trout  that  appre- 
ciated them ! 

If  it  were  not  for  the  bluebottle  and  other  flies  whose 
larvae  feed   on  decaying   flesh,   the   carcases  of  animals 


162  TINY   WORLD. 

might  often  create  pestilence  and  disease.  There  are 
other  flies  whose  larvaB  are  equally  partial  to  decaying 
vegetable  refuse.  In  fact,  every  substance  that  ought  to 
be  out  of  the  way,  and  is  a  nuisance,  is  the  object  of  the 
fly's  research  ;  and  soon  can  they  clear  them  off.  They 
will  make  skeletons  of  a  mouse  or  a  little  bird,  very 
cleanly  picked  out  for  the  student  of  anatomy,  in  a  very 
few  days. 

But  this  habit  of  searching  out  and  feeding  on  putrid 
matter  causes  one  of  the  most  serious  injuries  of  which 
the  fly  is  guilty  in  hot  climates.  Its  taste  or  smell  leads 
it  to  settle  on  any  sore  and  to  feed  on  it.  This  would  be 
all  very  well,  but,  unhappily  for  many,  the  fly,  as  we 
have  seen,  has  a  very  gummy  foot.  One  of  the  most 
common  diseases  in  Egypt  and  other  Oriental  countries 
is  ophthalmia,  or  running  sores  of  the  eyes,  which  often 
produce  blindness.  This  complaint  is  highly  contagious, 
but  only  by  inoculation.  If  it  were  not  for  the  flies, 
there  would  not  be  much  danger  in  this,  as  people  are 
not  in  the  habit  of  kissing  with  their  eyelids.  But  the 
fly  perseveringly  attacks  the  sufferer,  and  perches  on  the 
moist  eyelid.  Soon  chased  away,  off  he  goes,  and  if 
with  his  wet  feet  he  makes  his  next  settlement  on  the 
eyelid  of  a  healthy  person,  which  too  often  happens,  the 
result  is  certain  to  be  an  attack  of  ophthalmia.  This  ia 
a  kind  of  infection  which  no  care  or  cleanliness  can 
obviate. 


ABOUT   FLIES. 


PART  III. 

THERE  are  other  flies,  very  nearly  akin  to  the  house 
fly  and  the  bluebottle,  of  which  it  is  very  hard  to 
discover  the  use,  excepting  it  be  to  act  as  scourges  to  man 
and  beast. 

Who  can  ever  say  a  good  word  for  that  thirsty 
little  blood-sucker,  the  mosquito,  as  the  small  gnat  is 
called,  which  murders  sleep  in  Lapland  and  Labrador  as 
much  as  in  India  or  South  America  ?  Happily  in  Eng- 
land we  know  very  little  about  them,  excepting  from  the 
painful  recollections  of  travellers.  There  is  only  one 
safeguard  against  them,  and  that  is  to  be  miles  away 
from  any  water,  for  water  is  indispensable  to  the  early 
life  of  the  mosquito. 

The  female  lays  her  eggs  close  together  in  the 
shape  of  a  boat,  on  the  edge  of  some  leaf  or  substance 
floating  on  the  water.  The  little  raft  sails  away,  and  in 


164  TIN*    WOBLD. 

two  or  three  days  the  eggs  are  hatched,  and  the  larva 
swarm  by  millions  in  every  pool  and  stagnant  ditch,  and 
even  in  water  jugs  or  basins  that  have  been  allowed  to 
stand  a  day  or  two.  Like  the  larvsB  of  flies,  they  have 
no  legs,  and  when  not  disturbed  float  on  the  top  of  the 
water  with  their  heads  downwards,  for  they  breathe  air 
through  the  ends  of  their  tails,  which  are  shaped  like  a 
funnel. 

If  the  water  is  in  the  least  degree  disturbed,  they 
dive  or  swim  most  rapidly,  but  they  feed  only  while 
motionless.  They  do  this  by  means  of  a  circular  fringe 
of  hair  round  the  mouth :  the  little  creatures  twirl  these 
hairs  about,  so  as  to  cause  tiny  currents,  which  bring 
microscopic  substances  within  their  reach,  which  are 
thus  drawn  in. 

In  another  week  or  tw»  the  larva  moults,  and  in 
n,  few  days,  a  second  and  then  a  third  time,  splitting 
up  its  old  skin,  and  coming  out  with  a  fresh  dress,  when 
it  changes  to  its  third  state,  like  the  chrysalis  of  a  butter- 
fly, only  that  it  still  moves  about,  sometimes  at  the  top, 
sometimes  at  the  bottom  of  the  water,  but  never  eats. 
In  eight  or  ten  days  more  it  comes  to  the  surface,  lies  on 
its  back,  and  after  a  few  struggles  splits  its  hard  skin 
into  the  shape  of  a  boat,  in  which  it  sits.  It  raises  its 
head  and  then  its  body,  till  it  stands  upright  like  a  mast 
in  the  floating  boat ;  then  it  gets  its  feet  clear  of  their 
shell ;  and  when  it  has  freed  its  third  and  hindmost  pair 
of  feet,  it  leans  to  one  side,  rests  its  fore-feet  on  the 
water,  waits  a  few  instants,  while  its  body,  which  was 


TKAN6FORMATION8    OF    THE    GNAT. 


165 


ABOUT    FLIES.  167 

quite  white  at  first,  becomes  first  greenish  and  then  black 
with  white  rings  ;  it  unfolds,  fans,  and  dries  its  wings, 
which  were  snugly  folded  very  close  within  its  old  skin  ; 
and  then  off  it  darts,  to  disport  for  a  day  or  two  in  the  air, 
and,  unless  picked  off  by  some  passing  swallow,  to  tor- 
ment any  human  or  other  beings  within  reach. 

It  would  be  some  excuse  for  these  blood-thirsty  little 
creatures,  if  it  were  a  necessity  of  their  existence  to 
draw  the  blood  of  the  giants  they  torment ;  but  there  ara 
millions  of  them  who  lead  innocent  and  happy  lives, 
without  ever  having  used  their  proboscis.  It  is  only  a 
bad  habit,  a  mischievous  luxury,  in  which  they  indulge 
when  they  have  a  chance.  When  they  do  find  a  victim, 
nothing  but  leather  will  keep  them  out;  and  besides 
their  sting,  their  sharp  stridulous  note  is  so  tormenting, 
that  many  sufferers  find  it  worse  than  their  bite.  Their 
proboscis  is  a  sort  of  hollow  pipe,  with  a  very  sharp 
point ;  this  tube  they  thrust  into  the  skin,  and  as  soon 
as  it  has  penetrated  to  the  veins,  they  shoot  down 
through  it  several  lancets  with  barbed  points,  notched 
like  a  saw,  and  then  suck  up  the  blood  from  the  wounds. 
Not  content  with  this,  they  eject  a  powerful  acid  at  the 
same  time,  which  causes  swellings  and  intolerable  irri- 
tation— sometimes  for  several  days — and  often  serious 
sores. 

Sometimes  they  have  appeared  in  such  numbers,  that 
their  clouds  at.  a  distance  looked  like  volumes  of  smoke 
rising  from  a  fire. 

We  are  told    by  historians   that  Sapor,   the  King  ol 


168  TINY    WORLD. 

Persia,  was  once  compelled  by  them  to  raise  the  siege  of  a 
city,  and  that  not  only  his  soldiers  were  attacked,  but  his 
elephants  and  beasts  of  burden,  till  they  became  perfectly 
maddened  and  unmanageable.  In  some  parts  of  South 
America  the  inhabitants  have  been  compelled  to  sleep  on 
the  ground,  buried  in  the  sand,  with  only  their  heads 
out,  and  these  covered  with  handkerchiefs  to  secure  rest 
This  was  both  witnessed  and  experienced  by  Huinboldt. 

The  traveller,  Dr.  Clarke,  tells   us,  that  once   in  the 
Crimea  he  was  attacked  by  a  swarm  at  night,  when  not 


GADFLY. 

a  breath  of  air  was  stirring.  Driven  from  his  quarters, 
he  vainly  took  to  the  carriage  outside  for  refuge.  Almost 
suffocated  with  heat,  he  dared  not  venture  to  open  the 
windows  ;  still  the  torturing  little  creatures  contrived  to 
find  their  way  in.  He  wrapped  his  head  in  a  handker- 
chief 'in  vain  ;  they  filled  his  mouth,  nostrils,  and  ears. 
At  length  he  succeeded  in  lighting  a  lamp,  but  it  was 
extinguished  in  a  moment  by  such  a  prodigious  number 
of  mosquitoes,  that  their  carcases  choked  up  the  glass 
chimney,  and  formed  a  heap  over  the  burner. 


ABOUT   FLIES.  169 

There  is  another  fly  which  is,  if  possible,  a  yet  greatei 
tormentor  of  cattle  than  the  mosquito  is  of  man — the 
gadfly.  When  its  tormenting  buzz  is  recognised,  wa 
may  see  a  whole  herd  of  cattle  rushing  wildly  about, 
with  tails  outstretched,  in  abject  terror.  The  gadfly  u 
far  worse  than  the  gnat,  for  it  actually  buries  its  eggs  in 
the  skin  of  the  animal,  and  leaves  them  there  to  hatch, 
when  they  live  upon  the  flesh  for  days,  and  often  destroy 
the  poor  animal  by  the  sores  they  create.  The  most 
terrible  of  the  gadflies  is  the  Tzetze  of  Abyssinia  and 
other  parts  of  Eastern  Africa.  It  sometimes  renders 
whole  districts  desolate  for  miles,  by  destroying  all  the 
animals,  and  thus  reducing  the  poor  inhabitants  to  a 
state  of  starvation;  and  Dr.  Livingstone  tells  us  of 
regions  where  for  a  part  of  the  year  no  one  is  able  either 
to  live  or  travel,  until  the  wet  season  destroys  these 
terrific  scourges. 

This  is  indeed  the  dark  side  of  fly-life,  so  far  stf  we  arc 
concerned ;  but  we  need  not  close  our  connection  with 
fl ydorn  with  such  doubtful  characters.  There  are  members 
of  the  vast  and  illustrious  kingdom  of  flies  whose  origin 
is  not  a  whit  less  wonderful  than  the  wonderful  origin  ol 
Jie  gnat  and  mosquito,  and  against  whose  respectfulness 
of  behaviour  to  the  human-kind  at  least  there  can  be 
brought  not  a  single  charge,  who  also  add  to  all  the 
wonders  of  origin  a  beauty  of  being  which  stands  almost 
alone. 

Dragon-flies,  darting  from  reed  to  reed  along  the 
margin  of  brooks,  bathed  in  the  heat  and  light  of  a  July 


170 


TINY   WORLD. 


day,  are  amongst  the  most  graceful  and  splendid  of  living 
things.  By  the  French,  for  their  elegance  of  colour, 
form,  and  motion,  they  are  ranked  as  the  "  young  ladies  " 
of  the  insect  world.  These  flies  are  always  large,  their 
bodies  are  of  a  brilliant  metallic  lustre,  and  combine  all 


DRAGON-FLY. 

the  colours  of  the  rainbow.  Their  wings  are  extremely 
delicate,  their  substance  is  of  a  crystal  clearness,  covered 
with  fine  and  vivid  tracery.  They  appear  to  love  the 
sunshine,  but  scarcely  perhaps  because  the  sunshine 
'burnishes  all  their  splendours.  They  dart  about  with 
great  rapidity;  they  have  few  enemies,  save  and  except 


ABOUT    FLIES. 


171 


the  silken  neU  and  straw  hats  of  naturalists  and  school- 
boys, and  few  things  excite  either  of  these  classes 
with  a  desire  to  possess  so  generally  and  strongly  as  the 
fiery  dragon-fly.  But  their  remarkable  alertness  in  rest 
and  swiftness  in  flight  generally  outmatches  the  tact  and 
zeal  of  their  pursuer. 


DRAGON-FLY. 

Yet  these  fairy  creatures  are  born  in  beds  of  mud. 
Their  mother  lays  her  eggs  in  ponds  and  streams.  From 
the  egg  comes  the  baby-fly,  which  is  called  the  larva, 
and  a  curious  little  creature  the  baby-fly  is.  It  runs 
along  the  mud  bottom  of  the  water,  catching  insects  and 


172  TINY   WOBLB. 

tiny  fishes  for  its  baby  food.  For  this  purpose  it  is 
furnished  with  a  curious  apparatus  by  which  it  first 
deceives,  then  seizes  its  prey.  Whilst  the  tiny  insect  is 
keeping,  as  it  imagines,  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  ravenous 
intruder  into  his  domains,  lo !  to  its  astonishment  and 
speedy  destruction,  off  shoots  the  intruder's  head,  and 
leaving  its  place  in  the  body,  in  half  a  wink,  seizes  the 
insect,  draws  it  back,  and  devours  it.  No  wonder,  you 
will  say,  if  the  fish  is  surprised  at  such  a  feat. 

But  does  the  larva's  head  really  come  off  ? 

No,  not  really ;  but  to  the  fish,  who  has  no  time  to 
examine  and  reflect,  so  it  appears,  for  the  little  creature 
is  furnished  with  a  mask — a  mask,  oo,  with  real  jaws 
and  strong  joints  ;  and  this  is  fitted  to  a  rod  which  draws 
out  to  a  length  equal  to  the  whole  length  of  its  body. 
"  This,"  says  Charles  de  Geer,  their  historian,  "  they 
shoot  forward  suddenly  as  a  flash  of  lightning,  seize  the 
insect  between  their  two  pincers,  then,  drawing  back  the 
mask,  they  bring  the  prey  to  their  mandibles  and  begin 
to  eat  it." 

I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  these  baby-flies  are  cannibals ; 
for,  besides  devouring  insects  and  tiny  fishes,  they  will 
eat  one  another.  But  in  this  respect  the  child  is  not  the 
father  of  the  man ;  for  when  they  have  past  their  babyhood, 
long  before  they  are  full-grown,  when  indeed  they  are  only 
boy ?  and  girls,  they  put  away  this  bad  habit,  and  sin  no 
more. 

Whilst  young,  they  show  great  tact  in  the  use  of  their 
powers.  When  most  anxious  to  procure  food,  they  move 


ABOUT    FLIES.  173 

about  with  greatest  patience  and  apparent  satisfaction. 
Thus,  whilst  attracting  no  attention,  putting  their  prey 
off  guard,  they  select  a  victim,  steal  up  to  within  a 
reasonable  distance,  then  instantaneously  capture.  "  It 
is  very  difficult,"  said  De  Geer,  "for  other  insects  to 


THREE    AGES    OF    THE    DRAGON-FLY. 

avoid  their  blows — because,  walking  along  in  the  water, 
generally  very  gently,  and,  as  it  were,  with  measured  steps, 
almost  in  the  same  way  as  a  cat  does  on  the  look-out  for 
birds,  they  suddenly  dart  forward,  then  mark  and  seize 
their  prey." 


171  TDIY   WORLD. 

But  we  must  not  stop  too  long  under  water,  July  is 
coming,  and  the  larva,  our  dragon-fly-to-be,  passed  into 
its  pupa  state,  climbs  up  one  of  the  reeds,  and  hangs 
itself  out  to  dry.  Tired  of  its  eleven  months  of  water- 
life,  it  seeks  the  aerial  life  for  which  it  was  made. 
Shortly  the  drying  process  culminates  in  the  cracking  of 
its  skin,  and  out  of  the  crack,  head  first,  emerges  the 
dragon-fly.  Still  the  drying  process  must  be  continued, 
for  the  wings  are  too  soft,  as  well  as  too  small,  for  flight ; 
but  sun  and  air  soon  do  their  work,  and  in  a  few 
hours  after  the  opening  of  the  prison  doors,  the  perfect 
fly  stretches  its  glad  wings  and  flies  away. 

We  have  now  told  enough,  we  hope,  to  let  our  readers 
see  that  even  flies  have  their  uses,  and  that,  whether  we 
^examine  their  history  or  their  structure  Maey  are  not 
the  least  wonderful  of  the  many  wonder! m  things  with 
which  God  hag  stored  this  prolific  earth  of  ours. 


*JMT8    AND    ANT-HILM. 


ANTS  AND  ANT-HILLS. 


PART  I. 

!  I  have  been  to  the  ants,  and  I  sat  down 
on  a  little  mound  to  consider  their  ways,  and — 
and — they've — stung  me  !  "  exclaimed  a  youth  of  small 
dimensions  rushing  into  the  house,  rubbing  his  arms  and 
ankles,  and  trying  to  brush  off  the  angry  insects  from  his 
neck  and  ears. 

"  As  might  have  been  expected,  with  less  wisdom  on 
your  part  than  on  theirs — when  you  have  been  sitting  like  a 
huge  giant  on  the  top  of  their  newly-built  house,  crushing 
it  in,  with_all  its  long  galleries  and  beautiful  gateways,  its 
upper  and  lower  stories,  its  nurseries,  cellars,  and  grand 
central  hall — poor  little  insects  !  How  could  they  think 
that  a  child  who  was  able  to  destroy  their  work  of  weeks 
had  really  come  to  learn  a  lesson  and  to  take  an  example 
from  their  tiny  selves  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  mother ;  but  I  did  want  to  know  about 
if 


178 


TINY    WORLD. 


them.  Wris  it  not  enough  to  provoke  any  one  ?  I  was 
so  vexed  at  being  wakened  up  when  I  was  sleepy ; 
and  then  for  nurse  to  be  always  saying  the  same  thing, 
'  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard ! '  I  thought  at  last  I 
would  go  and  watch  them,  though  I  am  not  a  sluggard, 
and  see  if  they  did  not  get  a  good  sleep  when  they 
wanted  it,  without  being  forced  to  get  up  like  me." 

"  And  so  you  went,  when  you  had  been  out  of  bed  a 
few  hours,  and  had  had  a  good  breakfast,  to  see  whether 
the  ants  were  as  early  risers  as  yourself !  If  you  had 
been  up  with  the  sun,  and  could  have  seen  the  inside  of 
that  busy  little  ant-hill,  instead  of  crushing  it  with  your 
weight,  you  might  have  seen  the  careful  and  diligent 
nurses  who  live  in  the  upper  stories  of  that  wonderful 
house  very  early  astir,  and  going  to  call  their  young 
masters  down  below.  You  might  have  seen  them 
tapping  them  with  their  little  antenna,  which  look  like 
horns,  as  much  as  to  say,  «  Time  to  get  up,  the  sun  has 
risen  ;  '  and  then  waking  up  the  little  baby-ants,  and 
cairying  them  up  through  the  long  galleries  that  lead  to 
the  top  of  the  ant-hill ;  and  then  so  carefully  laying  them 
outside  that  the  bright  rays  of  the  sun  might  warm  them 
and  help  them  .to  grow,  as  to  be  an  example  to  many 
human  nurses  who  stand  talking  and  leaving  their  babies 
in  the  cold." 

"  Now,  mother,  I  do  believe  you  are  only  inventing  a 
fable  to  tease  me.  How  can  anybody  tell  what  those 
little  creatures  do  underground  ?  And,  besides,  I  am 
very  sure  you  would  be  angry  with  nurse  if  she  took 


ANTS    AND    ANT-IflLl.S.  179 

me  and  baby  out  in  the  sun,  and  without  a  parasol,  too, 
to  put  over  baby's  head." 

"  I  assure  you  the  nurses  of  the  little  baby-ants  are 
very  careful  not  to  leave  them  in  the  heat  of  the  sun 
after  the  very  early  morning.  As  soon  as  the  air  gets 
warm,  and  the  sun  is  hot,  they  carry  them  into  the 
roomrf  near  the  top,  where  the  rays  have  penetrated,  and 
where  the  warmth  can  still  reach  them.  But  the  older 
ants  can  bear  the  sun,  and  like  to  feel  its  rays ;  and 
though  they  are  very  industrious,  yet,  as  they  begin 
work  with  the  dawn,  they  take  a  little  rest  sometimes  in 
the  heat  of  the  day,  and  lie  heaped  together  in  the  sun- 
shine. But  do  not  be  surprised  if  I  still  tell  by-and-by 
about  some  ants  who  do  walk  about  with  green  parasols, 
and " 

"  Stop,  please,  mother^  do  !  I  am  sure  you  are  only 
laughing  at  me.  But  I  really  should  like  to  hear 
something  true  about  ants.  Are  they  like  bees  that 
make  honey  ?  " 

"  They  make  no  honey,  nor  do  they  build  such  curious 
combs  as  we  see  in  the  beehives,  but  in  their  own  way 
they  are  just  as  wonderful ;  though,  as  we  are  told,  they 
have  no  guide,  overseer,  or  ruler.  I  always  think  they 
are  intended  rather  as  an  example  to  older  people,  who 
have  to  provide  for  themselves  and  their  families  with 
diligence,  while  they  have  health  and  strength,  than  for 
children,  who  are  guided,  ruled,  and  overseen  by  their 
parents,  and  have  everything  provided  for  them  without 
any  trouble  of  their  own." 


180  TINY  WORLD. 

"  Oh,  but  the  little  baby-ants  must  b«  just  like  UB, 
because  you  say  they  have  nurses  too." 

M  Yes,  in  one  way  they  are.  Just  so  long  as  they 
cannot  run  alone,  they  are  dressed  like  the  young  children 
in  the  East,  or  like  the  babes  which  the  Indian  squaw 
hangs  behind  her  back  or  on  a  peg  in  her  tent.  They 
have  natural  swaddling  clothes.  They  are  wrapped  up  so 
tightly  in  their  larva  covering  that  no  legs  can  be  'seen, 
only  a  head  and  wings  can  be  traced  through  the  trans- 
parent skin  in  which  they  are  folded.  Of  course  you 
know  they  begin  life  by  being  an  egg,  but  they  are 
hatched  in  a  fortnight,  and  then  the  nurses  take  such 
care  of  them  to  keep  them  clean,  to  brush  and  comb  and 
shampoo  them,  that  very  soon  they  begin  to  be  ready  for 
the  next  change.  If  you  could  only  look  at  the  tiny 
insects,  the  nurses,  through  a  mjcroscope,  you  would  see 
on  all  their  legs  some  very  fine  soft  hairs,  which  they  use 
as  brushes,  and  a  spur  close  by,  which,  if  needful,  we 
may  imagine  can  do  the  work  of  a  comb.  The  shampoo- 
ing is  done  by  working  about,  kneading,  and  distending 
the  thin  skin  which  covers  their  limbs,  till  it  is  ready  to 
open,  and  let  them  go  free.  Then  they  wind  a  curtain 
of  silk  round  their  own  little  bodies,  and  go  to  sleep, 
to  wake  up  full-grown  ants  without  guide,  overseer,  or 
ruler." 

"  Th^n  does  every  little  ant  do  everything  for  itself?  " 

"  In  that  respect  they  are  the  most  wonderful  animals 
you  ever  heard  of.  They  do  everything  so  exactly  in 
order,  and  all  together — all  knowing  their  own  business 


ANTS    CAltKYISG    THEIlt   EGGS    IIsTO    TliE    SUN. 


ANTS    AND   ANT-HILLS.  188 

and  doing  it  — that  one  would  imagine  they  had  a  com- 
manding-officer or  a  king  to  order  them  about  every 
movement." 

"  Indeed,  mother,  if  they  can  work  as  well  without  a 
king,  as  they  wound  without  a  sword,  I  think  they  are 
very  well  off  without  one.  They  look  just  like  a  regi- 
ment of  soldiers." 

"A  regiment  of  officers  they  are,  for  each  one  under- 
stands as  well  as  another  the  order  of  march  and  a 
soldier's  duties.  They  never  fear  danger,  but  advance  in 
their  order  of  battle  with  the  greatest  firmness,  the 
advanced  guard  wheeling  round  to  the  wings  every  five 
minutes  to-  make  room  for  others  to  come  forward  in 
their  place-  Myriads  may  be  sometimes  seen  pouring 
forth  from  two  rival  cities,  and  meeting  half-way  between 
their  respective  habitations,  equalling  in  numbers  the 
armies  of  two  mighty  empires.  Though  they  occupy 
only  two  or  three  square  feet,  yet  the  picture  they 
present  is  that  of  a  field  of  battle  between  contending 
nations  of  men." 

"  But  what  have  they  to  fight  with  ?  Do  they  sting 
each  other,  as  they  stung  me  ?  " 

"  The  ants,  like  men,  have  different  kinds  of  weapons. 
But  though  there  are  many  kinds  of  ants  in  foreign 
countries  that  have  stings  in  their  tails,  and  are  called 
Myrmica,  our  common  ants  have  no  sting,  but  they  have 
large  mandibles  or  nippers,  with  which  they  bit  you. 
They  are  called  Formica.  There  are  many  hundreds 
of  species  bcth  of  Myrmica  and  Formica  spread  over  all 


184 


TINY   WORLD. 


the  countries  in  the  world.  We  have  a  great  many  kinds 
in  England, — the  black  ant,  brown  ant,  red  ant,  and 
others. 

"  But  the  way  in  which  all  our  ants  fight  when  they 
come  to  close  quarters  is  by  seizing  each  other  with 
their  nippers,  and  when  they  have  hooked  themselves  on 
to  each  other,  struggling  till  the  weaker  is  dragged  away. 
If  another  soldier  comes  up,  he  will  seize  his  comrade,  and 
so  help  him  to  pull  away  the  other.  They  are  so  bitter 
against  their  enemies,  that  they  will  sooner  suffer  them 
selves  to  be  torn  in  pieces  than  let  go  their  hold. 

"  Some  kinds  attack  others  that  are  twice  as  big  as 
themselves,  trusting  to  their  superior  numbers,  and  going 
two  ngainst  one.  In  these  -Jbattles,  when  the  strength  of 
the  two  soldiers  is  equal,  they  will  tug  away  at  each  other, 
and,  each  squeezing  his  enemy,  will  roll  in  the  dust,  and 
lie  till  reinforcements  come  up.  Sometimes  six  or  eight 
may  be  seen  tugging  in  a  chain  on  each  side,  pulling  with 
all  their  might,  till  some  more  come  up  on  one  side  than 
the  other,  and  the  weaker  are  dragged  into  captivity. 

"  But  they  have  other  weapons  besides  such  force. 
When  two  ants  grapple,  they  raise  -themselves  on  their 
legs,  and  turn  their  bodies  up  in  front,  squirting  a  venom 
from  the  extremity  of  their  abdomen  against  the  face  of 
their  foe.  This  poison  is  well  known  to  chemists,  and  is 
called  formic  acid.  Thousands  of  ants  may  be  seen  in 
battle  shooting  this  poison  at  one  another,  which  has  a 
strong  odour,  and  is  as  destructive  among  them  as  gun- 
powder is  to  us. 


ANTS    AND    ANT-HILLS. 


185 


"  This  sort  of  battle  is  like  crossing  bayonets,  but  very 
often  the  army  throws  out  skirmishers  before  coming  to 
close  quarters.  When  they  see  their  enemies  but  cannot 
reach  them,  they  stand  up  on  their  hind-feet,  press  their 


AN    ANT    STORMING   PARTY. 


abdomen  between  their  legs,  and  shoot  simultaneously  and 
with  force  some  jets  of  their  formic  acid  at  the  foe. 
This  is  exactly  like  the  archers  of  old.  or  the  musketry 
of  modern  buttles.  After  the  engagement,  thousands  of 


186  TINY   WORLD. 

dead  and  mangled  strew  the  ground,  but  far  more  are  led 
away  as  prisoners  ;  for  the  ants  are  very  fond  of  making 
prisoners,  as  you  will  hear  soon,  and  all  the  time  of  the 
fight  crowds  are  to  be  seen  hurrying  up  with  reinfoi ce- 
ments on  each  side. 

"  They  chiefly  attack — after  the  fashion  of  the  wicked 
slave-traders  among  men — a  kind  of  ants  called  from 
their  colour  the  negro-ant,  and  when  they  succeed  in 
making  them  prisoners  they  bring  home  their  slaves,  and 
employ  them  in  all  menial  offices  ;  only  with  this  excep- 
tion, that  the  ants  are  always  their  own  dairymaids.  But 
that  I  will  tell  you  about  by-and-by.  At  present  I  will  give 
you  the  account. of  those  who  have  seen  the  attack  and 
defence,  and  the  droves  of  slaves  being  conducted  to  the 
ant-hill  of  the  successful  combatants  ;  only  telling  you,  to 
begin  with,  that  they  are  also  like  the  old  Highlanders 
and  the  Border  marauders,  or  cattle-lifters ;  and  that 
these  attacks  are  frequently  made  with  a  view  of  pos- 
sessing a  herd  of  the  cows,  on  the  milk  of  which  they  feed 
with  BO  much  delight/9 


ANTS   AND    ANT-HILLS. 


PART  II. 

"  /^\H  tell  me  now  about  the  dairy,  and  then  about  the 
'  fighting  for  the  cows !  What  do  you  mean  by 
that  ?  The  cows  must  be  very  tiny  ones." 

"  You  have  often  seen  the  little  green  insects  that 
jcruwl  up  the  stems  of  the  rose-trees.  They  are  called 
tijihides,  and  these  little  creatures  are  the  cows,  which 
yield  a  sweet  juice  much  delighted  in  by  the  ants,  which 
keep  their  cows  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  There  is  a  species 
of  yellow  ant,  which  does  not  roam  much  about,  but 
livos  chiefly  on  the  milk  of  its  herds,  which  it  keeps  under- 
ground— like  the  unhappy  cows  of  some  of  the  London 
dairy- men — at  the  bottom  of  its  citadel ;  and  an  ant-hill 
is  more  or  less  rich  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  its 
flocks. 

"  There  are  many  other  kinds  of  cowherd  ants. 

"  Some  take  less  trouble  than  others  with  their  cows, 


188  TINT    WORLD. 

and,  being  active  and  good  climbers,  run  themseb es  up  the 
branches  on  which  are  the  aphides,  and  milk  them  there. 
Others  take  so  much  pains  as  to  make  a  little  tunnel 
of  earth  from  the  foot  of  the  tree  to  their  nest,  in  which 
they  carry  home  the  cows  underground,  without  being 
seen  or  disturbed  by  other  ants. 

"  Others  make  stalls  for  their  cattle,  apart  from  their 
own  nests.  They  build  with  earth  round  the  stems  of 
plants  little  houses,  round  within  and  as  smooth  and  hard 
as  these  ingenious  little  plasterers  can  make  them.  These 
folds  are  of  the  shape  of  a  funnel,  sometimes  of  a  ball, 
with  a  very  small  hole  at  the  bottom  for  the  ants  to  go  in 
and  out  at.  Other  ants  will  make  a  little  hollow  ring  of 
earth  and  decayed  wood  mixed  into  hard  plaster  round 
the  branch  of  a  tree  on  which  are  their  aphides,  which 
they  carry  down  to  this  prison,  and  then  visit  them  from 
the  inside  of  the  tree  by  passages  through  the  bark  with- 
out coming  outside. 

"  Their  way  of  milking  is  very  curious.  The  body  of 
the  aphides  or  plant-lice  is  very  soft  and  tender,  and  they 
have  a  proboscis  by  which  they  adhere  to  the  leaf  or 
plant.  For  fear  of  bursting  them  the  ant  strokes  them 
and  caresses  them  with  its  antennas  very  gently,  until  the 
creature  loosens  its  hold,  when  the  ant  gently  carries  it 
away.  There  are  two  horns  near  the  tail  of  the  aphis. 
which  exude  the  sweet  juices  of  the  plant  on  which  it 
has  been  feeding.  The  ant  begins  by  stroking  down  its 
captive  and  flattering  it  with  its  antennae  or  feelers,  and 
then  strikes  these  horns  gently,  when  a  little  honey-like 


ANTS    AND    ANT-HILLS.  189 

drop  is  voluntarily  exuded.     This  the  ant  takes  up  with 
the  end  of  its  feelers,  and  conveys  to  its  mouth. 

"  But  they  not  only  capture,  they  actually  breed  their 
cows  as  well.  They  take  the  greatest  care  of  their 
eggs,  gather  them  up  carefully,  keep  licking  them  and 
moistening  them,  and  glue  them  together  with  a  sort  of 
gum  from  their  own  saliva,  as  the  parent  would  have 
done  if  she  had  been  free,  and  so  they  hatch  generations 
of  captives  within  their  ant-hills.  They  also  collect 
food  and  bring  it  to  them,  lest  their  cows  should  go  dry 
for  want  of  grass." 


ANT  MILKING  AN  APHIS  (Magnifieu,. 

' "  But  you  said  the  ants  kept  slaves  too.     I  should  like 
to  hear  about  their  negroes." 

"  I  do  not  wonder,  for  I  think,  of  all  the  marvellous 
things  that  have  been  discovered  in  the  ant- world,  this  is 
the  most  marvellous  of  all.  But  I  must  tell  you  how  it 
was  first  discovered.  It  had  puzzled  many  people  who 
had  gone  to  the  ants  and  considered  their  ways,  wTiy  it 
often  happened  that  there  were  two  kinds  of  ants — 


190  TINY  WORLD. 

black  ones  and  red  ones — together  in  the  bamo  ant-hill 
Huber,  a  great  French  naturalist,  who  made  many 
wonderful  discoveries  about  ants,  at  length  discovered 
that  one  particular  kind,  which  he  called  the  Amazon 
ant,  did  nothing  but  fight,  and  he  found  also  that  in  the 
nest  where  there  were  two  kinds  there  were  never  any 
male  or  female  ants,  but  only  workers  of  the  black  sort. 
"or  I  should  tell  you  that  just  as  there  are  three  kinds  of 
-  ->es — the  queen,  who  always  stays  at  home,  the  drones 
or  lazy  gentlemen,  and  the  workers  who  are  females  that 
never  lay  eggs ;  so  it  is  with  the  ants  also,  only  that 
their  ladies  are  not  queens,  and  there  are  a  great  many 
of  them  in  one  nest. 

V 

"  Now  the  Amazon  ants  have  mandibles  or  pincers, 
which  have  no  teeth  of  curved  shape  like  those  of  most 
other  ants,  but  are  straight,  and  are  consequently  more 
like  spears  or  swords  than  hoes  and  rakes,  such  as  the 
other  kinds  have.  Their  business  is  fighting,  and  they 
want  servants  both  to  build  their  houses  and  take  care  of 
their  children.  Accordingly,  every  evening,  a  little  before 
sunset,  they  set  out  like  the  kidnappers  in  Africa  against 
a  negro  village,  to  surprise  some  industrious  ant-hill  in 
the  neighbourhood,  which  their  scouts  have  reconnoitred 
and  reported  on.  They  surround  the  fortress,  and  then 
all  rush  upon  it  together.  The  few  black  ants  that  stand 
sentry  at  the  entrances  are  soon  overpowered,  anJ  the 
robbers  rush  at  once  to  the  rooms  where  the  eggs  and 
young  ones  are,  seize  them  and  carry  them  off,  never 
taking  any  males  or  females.  They  bring  them  home 


ANTS    AND    ANT-HILL?.  191 

acid  hand  them  over  to  the  slaves  they  already  have  of 
the  same  kind. 

"  These  slaves  have  evidently  got  quite  accustomed  to 
their  captive  life  and,  indeed,  fond  of  their  masters,  for 
they  show  great  joy  when  prisoners  are  brought,  and  are 
very  sad  when  the  Amazons  have  failed.  They  run  to  meet 
them,  relieve  them  of  their  precious  load,  fake  care  of  the 
young  ;  they  shampoo  them,  undress  them,  take  off  their 
swaddling  clothes  at  the  proper  time,  and  feed  them. 
The  red  children  of  the  Amazons  and  the  black  captives 
are  brought  up  together  and  live  like  brothers.  Not  only 
do  the  slave-ants  do  all  the  work  of  the  nursery ;  they 
build  and  repair  the  castle,  and  they  are  sent  out  after 
the  cows,  and  bring  back  the  captives  for  their  masters  to 
milk.  However,  they  always  get  their  share.  In  fact, 
they  keep  the  key  of  the  pantry,  for  they  open  and  shut  all 
the  doors  of  the  castle  and  of  the  rooms  in  it  every  night 
and  morning ;  and  they  will  sometimes  help  the  Amazons 
with  whom  they  lived  in  fights  against  their  own  kind." 

"  But,  how  can  ants  know  one  another  ?  They  look  all 
exactly  alike,  at  least  all  red  ants  do,  and  all  black  ants 
the  same." 

"  That  is  another  curious  thing  about  the  ants.  Not 
only  do  ants  of  different  kinds  fight,  but  often  ant-hills  of 
the  same  species  will  go  to  war,  yet  the  soldiers  never 
mistake  between  a  comrade  and  an  enemy.  Huber  once 
kept  a  number  of  ants  from  one  nest  for  four  months  in 
his  house.  At  last  some  of  them  escaped  and  met  som« 
of  their  old  companions.  They  were  seen  to  make  all 


192  TINY   WORLD. 

sorts  of  signs  of  joy,  to  kiss  each  other,  stroke  one 
another  down  with  their  feelers,  take  hold  of  each  other 
with  their  mandibles,  and  then,  after  visiting  their  old 
nest  together,  they  came  out  in  great  crowds,  the  escaped 
prisoners  showing  the  way  till  they  found  the  place 
where  their  old  comrades  were  confined,  got  at  it,  and 
took  the  whole  of  them  home  with  them." 

"But  surely,  if  all  this  is  true,  ants  must  be  able  to 
talk  to  each  other,  and  tell  their  friends  all  they  know  ? 
How  can  they  make  one  another  understand  ?" 

"  Well  may  you  ask,  and  in  fact  they  have  such 
strange  power  of  communicating  information  to  every 
friend  they  meet,  that  the  word  antennate  has  been  in- 
vented to  express  the  dumb  language  of  the  ants.  They 
are  seen  to  touch  each  other  in  all  sorts  of  ways  by  their 
antenna},  and  it  is  no  doubt  by  signals  thus  made,  and 
instinctively  understood  by  all,  that  they  communicate. 
When  one  ant  touches  the  antennae  of  another,  it  in- 
stantly stops,  and  goes  in  the  direction  its  informant 
wishes.  But  we  have  not  yet  been  able  to  read  this 
dumb  alphabet." 

"  Well,  I  really  think  after  this  I  could  believe  that 
ants  carried  parasols  ;  though  they  seem  to  be  always 
toiling,  fighting,,  or  working." 

"  There  are  a  great  many  kinds  of  ants,  and  they 
all  have  different  habits  and  ways  of  building.  The 
parasol  ants  only  live  in  South  America,  and  make  nests 
of  a  different  kind  of  architecture  from  any  we  see  here. 
They  use  leaves  to  thatch  the  dome?  which  cover  the 


ANTS    AND   ANT-HILLS  199 

entrances  to  their  underground  homes.  If  they  did  not 
thatch  these  portions,  they  would  be  washed  away  by  the 
heavy  tropical  rains,  which  would  enter  and  drown  th<* 
young  ones. 

"Accordingly,  in  order  to  provide  leaves  for  thatch, 
they  go  out  in  immense  hosts,  select  a  tree  to  their  fancy, 
and  ascend  it  in  long  files.  Each  one  places  itself  on  the 
surface  of  a  leaf,  and  with  its  sharp  scissors-like  jaws 
makes  a  nearly  semi-circular  incision  on  the  upper  side  ; 
it  then  takes  the  edge  between  its  jaws,  and  by  a  sharp 
jerk  detaches  the  leaf.  Sometimes  they  let  the  leaf  drop 
to  the  ground,  when  they  are  gathered  and  taken  away 
by  another  relay  of  workers,  but  generally  each  marches 
off  with  the  piece  it  has  cut  out,  holding  it  over  its  body 
by  its  jaws,  and  as  they  follow  file  close  to  each  other, 
not  an  ant  can  be  seen,  but  the  procession  looks  like  a 
long  line  of  animated  leaves  on  the  march.  Sometimes  a 
great  heap  may  be  found  of  circular  pieces  of  leaf  about 
the  size  of  a  sixpence,  left  on  the  ground  away  from  any 
ant-hill.  But  if  we  wait  long  enough,  we  shall  see  a 
whole  relay  of  workers  come  back  to  the  place,  and  not 
a  leaf  will  be  left  behind.  When  they  reach  their  homes 
they  cast  the  leaf  down  on  the  hillock,  when  another  set 
of  workers  place  it  in  position,  fastening  each  leaf  down 
with  a  little  pellet  of  fine  earth  kneaded  by  themselves, 
and  which  acts  like  pegs  to  keep  the  leaf  fixed.  These 
ants  make  such  enormous  nests  underground,  that  they 
have  been  known  to  undermine  and  destroy  the  embank- 
ment of  a  large  reservoir. 

o 


194  TINY   WORLD. 

"  Other  ants  make  hillocks  in  the  woods  several  feet 
high.  Most  ants  in  this  country  make  'the  lining  of  their 
rooms  and  passages  of  blades  of  stubble,  small  fragments 
of  wood,  minute  pebbles,  and  whatever  substance  they 


NEST    OF    THE    GROUND-ANT. 


meet  with  which  they  can  carry,  and  so  they  often  pick 
up  grains  of  corn.  The  ants  which  make  hillocks  still 
have  the  greater  part  of  their  nests  underground.  Some 
sorts  make  only  one  entrance,  with  long  winding  passages 


ANTS    AND    ANT-HILLS. 


195 


to  their  halls  and  nurseries.     Others,  like  our  red  ants, 
have  many  entrances  open  to  the  air,  in  the  turf." 
11  But  does  not  the  rain  get  in  ?  " 


NEST    OF    THE    CARPEXTER-ANT. 


"No;  for  they  take  care  to  have  doors,  and  every 
evening,  or  whenever  it  is  wet  weather,  they  barricade 
themselves.  They  bring  little  beams  and  lay  them  across 
the  gallery,  then  they  place  others  on  the  top  of  them. 


196  TINY    WORLD. 

crosswise,  and  finally  they  employ  pieces  of  dry  leaves, 
very  broad,  to  cover  the  hole.  When  the  last  gates  arc 
shut,  sentries  are  placed  behind  them,  to  guard* and 
watch  over  the  safety  of  the  rest.  At  sunrise  the  barri- 
cades are  removed,  and  the  passages  opened  "for  the 
workers  ;  but  if  the  weather  be  ruiny,  the  gates  remain 
closed.  Their  earth  roofs  are  laid  upon  little  beams;  and 
as  they  carefully  knead  the  earth  in  pellets  and  moisten 
it  with  rain-water,  and  then  dry  it  in  the  sun,  it  is 
exactly  like  brickmaking,  and  the  sun-dried  bricks  turn 
the  rain  *cry  well.  Even  if  it  should  penetrate  in  very 
wet  weather,  the  ants  are  pretty  safe  in  their  larger  rooms 
which  are  lower  down,  and  where  they  generally  live. 

"  Other  ants  are  called  mason-ants,  because  they  use 
only  earth  pellets  or  sun-dried  bricks,  without  mixing 
stubble  and  wood,  and  hollow  out  large  vaults  in  the 
ground,  often  many  stories  deep,  with  a  labyrinth  of 
galleries  and  passages.  Their  chisel  is  their  teeth,  their 
compasses  are  their  antennaj^and  their  trowel  their  fore- 
feet. The  larger  rooms  are  supported  by  solid  pillars  of 
earth.  Those  different  stories  have  their  different  uses. 
The  upper  ones  are  chiefly  reserved  for  the  larca  or 
young,  that  thr-y  may  be  near  the  warmth  of  the  sun  ; 
but  when  its  heat  becomes,  as  they  think,  too  great  for 
the  little  ones,  they  are  carried  down-stairs  to  the  halls. 
If  the  rain  ^ets  in,  the  upper  stories  are  still  dry,  and  all 
the  colony  mounts  to  the  higher  chambers.  There  are 
tometimes  forty  stories  in  one  nest. 

"  But  masons,  bricklayers,  and  thatchers  are  not  the 


ANTS   AND   ANT-HILLS.  197 

on.y  handicraftsmen  among  these  marvellous  insects. 
There  are  carpenter-ants,  which  hollow  out  the  inside  of 
trees.  They  will  seize  upon  an  oak  or  a  willow,  and 
completely  scoop  out  many  square  feet  without  the  life  of 
the  tree  being  at  all  affected.  The  stories  and  galleries 
are  innumerable  and  very  small,  separated  only  by 
partitions  left  in  the  wood,  not  nearly  so  thick  as  fine 
cardboard,  and  here  and  there  a  little  column  standing. 
These  supports  are  thickest  at  the  top  and  bottom,  just 
as  in  human  architecture.  Every  pillar  has  a  base  and  a 
capital. 

"  And  now  we  may  forgive  the  ants  for  all  their  bites, 
after  the  wonderful  facts  we  have  learnt  from  going  to 
thorn  and  considering  their  ways." 


ANTS  AND   ANT-HILLS. 


PAET  III. 

T  THINK  my  readers  may  not  oiflect  to  stay  a  little 
•*-  longer,  and  hear  one  or  two  stories  about  the  ants, 
some  of  which  have  come  under  my  own  knowledge. 

In  some  countries  ants  are  very  numerous.  The  fire- 
ant  of  Brazil,  not  larger  than  our  red  ants,  sometimes 
multiplies  so  as  to  drive  the  people  out  of  the  villages  ;  and 
when  the  rivers  rise,  or  the  wind  blows  the  swarms  into 
the  water,  their  dead  bodies  may  be  seen  washed  on  shore 
in  heaps,  looking  like  a  deposit  of  black  earth,  for  many 
miles.  They  undermine  whole  villages,  and  fill  the  houses  ' 
like  an  Egyptian  plague,  disputing  every  fragment  of 
food  with  the  people,  and  even  destroying  clothes  to  get 
the  starch  out  of  them.  The  only  way  to  keep  anything 
safe  is  to  hang  it  in  baskets  by  cords  from  the  ceiling, 
and  to  steep  these  cords  in  a-  very  strong  solution  of 
disagreeable  oil,  which  the  ants  cannot  abide.  To  sit  at 


ANTS    AND   ANT-HILL8.  199 

the  legs  of  the  chair  must  be  rubbed  with  this  oil, 
and  the  legs  of  your  footstool  must  also  have  been 
steeped  in  it. 

In  s5me  seasons,  in  the  island  of  Bermuda,  there  is  a 
little  red  ant  which  is  as  great  a  plague,  only  that  it 
does  not  bite  very  severely.  At  these  times  you  cannot 
take  a  step  anywhere  without  crushing  hundreds  of  these 
little  insects.  The  cedar-trees  of  Bermuda,  a  kind  of 
juniper  which  grows  all  over  the  island,  are  covered  with 
a  sort  of  gum,  of  which  the  ants  are  very  fond,  and  every 
tree  is  covered  with  long  lines  of  them,  one  line  marching 
regularly  up  and  the  next  as  regularly  down,  like  files 
of  soldiers.  Sometimes  I  have  counted  more  than  a 
hundred  files  on  the  stems  of  a  single  tree.  Those  ants 
are  scattered  all  about  the  rooms  of  the  houses  ;  but  when 
there  is  nothing  particular  going  on,  you  can  only  see 
an  ant  wandering  about  here  and  there  on  the  floors,  the 
wall,  or  the  ceiling  of  the  room.  But  put  a  plate  of 
butter  on  the  table ;  if  it  is  not  very  far  from  the  side  of 
the  room,  you  will  see  a  lonely  ant  on  the  wall  stop.  It 
will  turn  itself  in  all  directions,  as  if  to  calculate  how 
to  reach  the  plate.  When  it  has  reconnoitred  for  a  few 
minutes  it  runs  down,  touching  every  ant  it  can  meet  on 
its  way.  Every  ant  that  is  touched  passes  the  message 
to  others. 

Some  of  them  you  will  see  run  across  the  floor  and 
out  of  the  room.  Very  soon  you  will  see  an  ant  climbing 
the  leg  of  the  table,  followed  by  two  or  three  more,  and 
in  'less  than  half  an  hour  there  is  a  long  line  of  hungry 


200  TINY    WORLD. 

insects  streaming  incessantly  from  the  door,  up  the  table, 
and  on  to  the  butter-dish.  I  have  often  cleared  the  ants 
away,  and  then  put  the  plate  on  the  stand  \vhich  hung 
over  the  table  from  the  ceiling.  The  ants  would  run 
about,  look  up  at  the  dainties  out  of  reach,  make  circles 
about  as  if  very  much  confused,  all  touching  each  othei 
with  their  feelers,  and  then  on  a  sudden  they  would 
make  a  line  of  march  down  the  table-leg.  But  they  were 
not  so  easily  got  rid  of.  In  a  few  minutes  a  black  thread 
was  seen  rising  up  the  wall,  along  the  ceiling,  and  down 


ANTS    DRAGGING   COCKROACH. 

the  cord  on  to  the  swinging  stand.  Happily  for  our 
dinner,  this  ant  dislikes  train-oil  very  much.  So  in  the 
autumn  each  leg  of  the  dinner-table  stood  in  a  little 
leaden  cup  of  train-oil,  and  our  chairs  were  likewise 
planted  in  saucers  of  train-oil.  When  we  did  this,  our 
dinner  was  safe. 

But  even  this  troublesome  littfe  ant  did  us  many  a  good 
turn.  The  most  annoying  pest  in  Bermuda  was  a  great 
red  cockroach,  four  times  as  large  as  the  *English  ojie, 
and  with  a  very  disagreeable  smell,  with  which  it  scents 


ANTS   AND  ANT-HILLS,  201 

everything  it  touches.  It  eats  far  more  than  the  ant, 
and  devours  leather,  cloth,  and  every  sort  of  animal 
substance. 

But  fortunately  the  ants  are  very  fond  of  eating  cock- 
roaches ;  and  though  it  would  take  two  hundred  ants 
to  weigh  as  much  as  one  cockroach,  they  kill  and  devour 
thousands  of  them.  Of  course  one  or  two  ants  could  do 
nothing  with  it.  But  whenever  they  find  a  cockroach 
standing  still,  or  eating,  or  in  its  hole,  they  collect  in 
myriads,  and  without  disturbing  it  completely  surround 
it.  On  a  sudden  the  little  army  rushes  on  its  prey. 
The  victim  is  instantly  covered.  For  a  few  moments  a 
struggling  mass  of  ants  is  seen  being  moved  along,  but 
each  is  hard  at  work  with  its  teeth,  the  cockroach  is 
soon  eaten  alive,  and  nothing  left  but  a  horny  skin,  and 
the  hunters  are  off  to  search  for  another. 

In  other  countries,  among  the  forests  of  Sweden  and 
Switzerland,  where  there  are  very  many  lofty  ant-hills 
they  serve  for  a  compass  to  the  traveller  who  has  lost  his 
way  by  night  or  in  the  fo._;.  Their  ne^ts  are  always 
made  from  east  to  west,  with  their  peak  at  the  east  end, 
which  is  very  steep,  while  the  ridge  slopes  gently  down  to 
the  nest.  Thus  when  there  is  no  sun  to  guide  him,  the 
wayfarer  knows  in  what  direction  to  travel  by  considering 
the  ants.  The  Swiss  also  make  lemonade  from  the 
yellow  ants,  by  putting  a  piece  of  sugar  into  their  nests, 
on  which  the  insects  at  once  squirt  their  acid  to  melt  it, 
and  it  is  taken  out  thus  steeped  in  formic  acid  and  tastes 
like  lemon. 


202 


TINY    WORLD. 


There  is  a  story  told  of  an  ant,  which  reminds  us  of 
the  story  of  Robert  Bruce  and  the  spider,  and  which 
teaches  us  the  same  lesson  set  forth  by  an  ant  which 
lived  six  hundred  years  ago.  It  is  in  the  life  of  Tamer- 
lane, the  Tartar  prince,  written  by  an  Arabian  historian. 


HILLS   OP   THE   WHITE   ANTS,   OR   TERMITES. 


That  terrible  conqueror  was  once  forced  to  take  refuge 
from  his  enemies  in  a  ruined  building.  As  he  sat  alone 
there  many  hours,  and  was  almost  in  despair,  his  attention 
was  attracted  by  an  ant  carrying  something  larger  than 
itself  up  a  high  wall.  He  counted  the  efforts  it  made  to 


ANTS   AND   ANT-HILLS.  203 

gain  its  end,  and  found  that  sixty-nine  times  its  burden 
fell  to  the  ground,  but  the  seventieth  time  it  reached  the 
top.  "  This  sight,"  he  said,  "gave  me  courage  at  the 
moment,  and  I  have  never  forgotten  the  lesson  it  taught 
me."  So  when  we  have  anything  to  do  which  is  difficult 
or  troublesome,  but  which  we  ought  to  do,  let  us  go  to  the 
ant,  go  on  trying,  and  we  shall  generally  succeed  at  last. 
However,  the  ants  can  play  as  well  as  work.  A 
famous  traveller,  who  considered  the  ways  of  the  ants  in 
South  America,  says,  "  Their  life  is  not  all  work,  for  I 
frequently  saw  them  leisurely  employed  in  a  way  that 
looked  like  recreation.  When  this  happened,  the  place 
was  always  a  sunny  nook  in  the  forest."  He  had  been 
watching  an  army  of  ants  on  the  march,  and  had  noticed 
that  while  the  main  body  carried  burdens,  the  pioneers 
went  before  to  make  the  road,  while  others  with  larger 
heads  than  the  rest  were  the  officers,  and  trotted  along- 
side without  even  carrying  anything.  But  they  kept  a 
sharp  look-out,  and  often  went  out  on  either  side  to  see 
that  no  enemies  were  lurking  near.  "  The  main  column 
of  the  army  and  the  branch  columns  at  these  times  were 
in  their  ordinary  relative  positions  ;  but  instead  of  press- 
ing forward  eagerly  and  plundering  right  and  left,  they 
Beemed  to  have  been  all  smitten  with  a  sudden  fit  of 
laziness.  Some  were  walking  slowly  about,  others  were 
brushing  their  antenna  with  their  fore-feet;  but  the 
drollest  sight  was  their  cleaning  one  another.  Here  and 
there  an  ant  was  seen  stretching  forth  first  one  leg  and 
then  another,  to  be  brushed  or  washed  by  one  or  more 


204  TINY   WORLD. 

of  its  comrades,  who  performed  the  task  by  passing  the 
limb  between  the  jaws  and  the  tongue,  and  finishing  by 
giving  the  antennas  a  friendly  wipe." 

Some  ants  are  like  drones,  and  never  work  at  all. 
These  are  the  male  and  female  ants,  and  have  wings, 
which  none  of  the  workers  have;  but  they  are  very 
kindly  treated,  and  are  not  turned  adrift  like  the  drones. 
They  may  often  be  seen  in  September  flying"  about  in 
great  swarms,  and  tumbling  to  the  ground  together;  but 
the  female  ants,  which  are  the  largest  of  all,  as  soon  as 
they  are  going  to  lay  eggs,  lose  their  wings,  which  they 
loosen  off  their  corselet,  and  then  their  kind  nurses  carrj 
them  home  again  to  their  nests.  Sometimes,  when  they 
think  the  ladies  are  too  fond  of  gadding  about,  they  take 
hold  of  them  in  the  nest  and  cut  off  their  wings,  so  that 
they  cannot  escape.  But  they  are  very  affectionate  to 
them ;  they  carry  them  from  room  to  room  according  to 
the  weather,  bring  them  food,  and  each  lady  ant  has  about 
a  dozen  servants,  who  are  always  stroking  and  kissing  her, 
and  when  she  dies  they  will  remain  for  several  days  brush- 
ing and  licking  her  bod  3-  before  they  will  take  her  out 
and  bury,  or  rather  bear  the  body  to  some  distance  from 
the  ant-hill. 

Ants,  wonderful  as  they  are,  have  many  enemies.  There 
are  ant-thrushes,  ant-eaters,  and  ant-lions.  Quadrupeds, 
birds,  spiders,  insects,  all  join  in  waging  war  upon  their 
armies.  The  ant-lion,  however,  is  not  a  lion,  but  an  insect, 
which  makes  pitfalls  for  the  ants  in^the  sand.  It  chooses 
a  place  where  the  sand  is  very  dry  and  loose,  nonr  tho 


ANTS   AND   ANT-HILLS. 


205 


ants'  track.  Then  it  scoops  out  a  funnel  with  steep  sides, 
and  buries  itself  at  the  bottom.  It  has  a  large  pair  of 
jaws,  which  it  sticks  up  just  at  the  point  of  the  funnel, 
but  on  a  level  with  the  sand,  so  that  they  cannot  be  seen. 
The  ants  in  their  travels  pass  the  pitfalls.  One  of  them 
slips  on  the  soft  sand,  and  comes  scrambling  to  the 
bottom,  as  we  should  do  in  running  down  a  gravelly  hill. 
The  moment  it  is  there,  the  jaws  are  lifted  and  it  is 


ANT-UON. 

seized  and  devoured,  and  the  trap  repaired  for  the  next 
incautious  wanderer. 

I  have  said  nothing  here  about  the  white  ants,  of 
which  there  are  happily  none  in  England.  They  are 
not  really  ants  at  all,  but  belong  to  another  class  of 
insects  altogether,  the  Neuroptera,  of  which  the  dragon- 
flies  are  a  family  found  in  this  country."  The  true  ants 
belong  to  what  are  called  Hymenoptera,  and  are  in  the 
same  class  as  bees  and  wasps. 


206  TINY  WOBU>. 

not  really  ants  at  all,  but  belong  to  another  class  of 
insects  altogether,  the  Neuroptera,  of  which  the  dragon- 
flies  are  a  family  found  in  this  country.  The  true  ants 
belong  to  what  are  called  Hymenopiera,  and  are  in  tb* 
same  class  as  bees  and  wasps 


ANTS    AND    THEIR    ORGANIZATION 


ANTS  AND  THEIE  OKGANIZATION. 


I  MET  to-day  two  straggling  streams  of  workers  moving 
along  a  hill-side  path,  one  to,  the  other  fro — black- 
bodied,  six-legged,  with  a  most  determined  aspect,  and 
an  almost  forbidding  look  (I  forgot  to  mention  that  there 
was  a  magnifying  glass  in  my  hand).  Apparently  each 
and  all  were  much  pressed  for  time  ;  they  hurried  along 
singly,  none  speaking  to  his  neighbour,  each  seeming 
intent  on  his  own  object,  though  the  result  was  to  be 
common  ;  each  bearing  his  own  burden,  not  often  helpful 
to  others,  self-concentrated,  eager,  bitter,  obstinate,  self- 
willed,  narrow,  conscientious,  ambitious.  I  followed 
them  till  I  reached  a  disturbed  ant-hillock,  which  had 
been  lately  overthrown,  and  where  the  possessors  were 
repairing  their  home  with  the  most  vehement  industry. 

Who  directs  them  ?  Each  seemed  to  be  going  on  his 
own  hook,  minding  his  own  business,  hardly  conscious 
of  the  existence  of  anything  but  himself;  "  frightfully  in 
earnest,"  as  Disraeli  once  said  of  Gladstone.  Yet  the 


210  TINY    WORLD. 

jrork  was  all  in  common  ;  the  community  of 
indeed,  secme  I  absolute;  no  one  had  any  personal  pro- 
perty whatever ;  house,  stores,  eggs,  everything  belonged 
to  all. 

No  one  interfered  with  the  rest ;  there  was  apparently 
no  chief,  overlooker,  or  director ;  yet  the  work  went  on 
apace,  the  repairing  and  building  up  of  the  ruined  city 
"  with  neatness  and  dispatch." 

Some  seized  a  pellet  of  earth  or  a  stone,  and  dragged 
it  backwards  up  the  steep  incline,  using  their  hind  legs 
to  cling  on  to  rough  places,  while  they  hauled  away  at 
a  weight  greater  far  than  that  of  their  own  bodies.  Some 
hoisted  aloft  in  their  front  arms,  as  it  were,  a  stick  or 
piece  of  grass  twice  or  even  thrice  their  own  length,  and 
moved  forwards  bearing  it  in  the  air.  Each  addition 
was  placed  in  what  each  considered  the  best  place  ;  but 
the  general  form  of  the  dome  grew  in  a  curiously 
regular  diminishing  curve,  as  if  each  bore  the  architect's 
elevation  in  his  pocket.  Some  of  the  workers  were 
making  desperate  efforts  to  move  heavy  (to  them)  beams 
of  wood,  but  after  superhuman  exertions  gave  up  the 
attempt  when  clearly  beyond  their  strength.  If  a  thing, 
however,  was  anyways  within  the  bounds  of  possibility, 
it  was  wondrous  with  what  obstinate  pertinacity  they 
would  return,  e.g.  to  a  pellet  which  had  rolled  away  from 
them,  even  to  the  bottom  of  the  hillock,  again  and  again, 
and  begin  once  more  to  haul  it  up  ;  tugging,  lifting  it 
over  stones  and  under  sticks,  tumbling  over  with  their 
burden  on  the  other  side  of  an  obstacle  which  they  had 


ANTS    AND    THEIR    ORGANIZATION.  211 

scaled,  and  lying  for  a  few  seconds  quite  exhausted, 
yet  never  leaving  hold  of  their  burden,  and  setting  of! 
again  undauntedly  as  soon  as  they  recovered  breath. 
Occasionally  two  or  more  were  helping  at  a  task  ;  but 
they  generally  seemed  to  prefer  working  alone. 

The  ant-hill  was  on  a  steep,  rocky,  wooded  hill-side, 
pink  with  spikes  of  heather,  feathered  with  bracken, 
which  hnng  over  the  nest,  while  tall  mountain  grasses, 
with  bright-glazed  red  and  amber  stalks,  sprang  up 
through  the  moving  mound  of  life.  The  August  sun 
shone  on  the  pleasant  spot,  while  through  the  white 
stems  of  the  birch  I  could  catch  sight  of  the  river  running 
at  the  bottom  of  the  deep  valley,  and  the  sound  of  the 
dashing  water  among  the  stones  far  away  came  up  with 
a  soft  murmur  to  my  mountain  perch.  There  was  a 
"  susurro  "  of  wind  among  the  trees,  the  twitter  of  the 
autumn  note  of  a  bird,  and  the  buzz  and  hum  of  insect 
life  hovered  round,  but  the  ants  were  all  silent;  and  the 
sort  of  low  hiss,  which' arose  from  the  collected  workers, 
resembled  the  noise  of  a  London  street  more  than  any 
form  of  speech. 

The  rest  of  the  world  seemed  wrapped  in  a  sort  of 
lazy  content  in  the  soft  sunny  weather,  but  the  ants  did 
not  seem  to  be  enjoying  life  any  more  than  the  men 
whom  one  meets  hurrying  along  the  Strand. 

Probably  the  appreciation  of  a  beautiful  view  is  not 
facilitated  by  crawling  over  grass  and  sand,  with  one's 
head  close  to  the  ground  !  Besides,  the  faculty  of 
admiring  scenery  is  not  only  the  distinctive  quality  oi 


212  TINY    WORLD. 

man,  but  is  confined  to  a  very  small  educated  section  of 
them  ;  and  I  doubt  whether  the  ants  are  ever  likely  to 
be  educated  into  lovers  of  the  picturesque,  they  are  toe 
hard-headed  business-like  a  people.  I  am  sure  they 
keep  their  account-books  admirably,  and  have  always 
a  balance  at  their  bankers,  and  that  their  stores  are 
all  labelled,  and  always  to  be  found  at  once  on  the  right 
shelves. 

There  is,  however,  a  softer  side  to  their  characters. 
They  are  warm  friends  and  allies,  and  assiduous  nurses, 
carrying  out  the  eggs  of  the  community  on  fine  days  to 
warm  and  comfort  the  unborn  children — not  their  own, 
but  the  nation's — and  if  you  try  to  take  an  egg  away, 
the  guardian  will  be  cut  to  pieces  rather  than  give  up 
his  charge  to  the  foe.  He  is  enduring,  brave,  bold, 
enterprising  ;  faithful  to  his  friends,  cruel  to  his 
enemies. 

His  muscular  power  is  astonishing.  He  is  said  to  be 
the  strongest  being  of  his  size  alive.  His  size  may 
.be  judged  by  the  reader  who  is  not  familiar  with  his 
form  by  our  illustration  of  the  ant  and  frog,  which  gives 
a  correct  idea  of  their  relative  size.  And  as  to  his 
mind,  M.  Quatrefages,  an  eminent  French  naturalist,  after 
saying  that  instinct  is  more  developed  among  insects  than 
in  any  other  creatures,  adds  that  ants  stand  highest  in 
this  respect,  "possessing  qualities  which  seem  to  resemble 
those  which  education,  perhaps,  masks  among  men." 
The  distinction  between  intelligence  and  instinct  as  shown 
amongst  them,  is  difficult  indeed  to  define.  On  one 


ANTS    AND    THEIR    ORGANIZATION.  215 

•ttw  jion  he  watched  them  dragging  the  wing  of  a  cock' 
cha^sr  into  their  nest ;  the  opening  was  too  small,  and 
the  workers  pulled  down  part  of  the  wall,  some  pushed 
at  it  from  without,  some  dragged  it  from  within,  still  the 
magnificent  beam,  which  was  probably  intended  to  make 
a  whole,  ceiling,  could  not  be  got  in ;  they  left  it,  increased 
the  size  of  the  opening,  and  the  wing  was  at  last  swal- 
lowed uj>,  though  probably  half-a-dozen  interior  partitions 
must  have  been  thrown  down  before  it  reached  its  proper 
place ;  after  this  the  door  was  built  up  again.  Among 
monkeys,  "  nearest  in  structure  to  man,  no  fact  has  been 
observed  marking  deliberation  and  judgment  in  common 
to  such  a  degree." 

It  is  baffling  to  think  how  entirely  we  are  outside  such 
intelligent  and  advanced  organizations  as  these  ;  we  can- 
not guess  at  their  thoughts  or  feelings  ;  their  external 
habits  even  are  unintelligible  to  us ;  we  seem  not  to  have 
a  point  whereat  to  touch.  To-day  they  were  quite 
unconscious  of  my  existence  ;  perhaps  I  was  too  big  to 
be  seen ;  they  took  no  more  notice  of  me  than  of  a  stone 
ns  long  as  I  remained  still,  and  if  they  stung  me  when  I 
interrupted  their  business,  it  was  my  fingei,  not  me, 
which  they  attacked.  A  short-sighted  man,  however, 
the  other  day,  who  approached  his  face  too  near  to  a 
nest,  was  spit  or  shot  at  (whatever  be  the  engine  used  to 
eject  the  formic  acid)  for  his  pains,  and  was  obliged  to 
draw  back  his  eyes  precipitately  from  the  sharp,  stinging 
volley. 

They  understand  each  other,  it  is  said,  by  means  of 


£10 


TINY   WORLD. 


the  antennae.  No  doubt  touch,  wkeii  sufficiently 
vated  even  in  man,  is  an  extraordinary  medium  of  com« 
munication,  as  was  seen  in  Lau?u  tfridgeman,  the  blind; 
deaf  mute ;  but  one  would  lib:  V>  understand  the  ant's 
(inger  alphabet. 

The  hand  in  man  is  consiStfsd  a  miracle  of  art,  bui 
the  ant  seems  to  use  his  six  feet  indifferently,  as  prehen- 
sile organs,  to  hold,  to  pul^  to  lift,  to  drag,  to  cling. 
The  keenness  of  their  smell  appears  to.  be  marvellous, 
so  that  not  so  much  as  a  cockroach  can  die  in  the  corner 
of  a  dark  room  but  the  enterprising  portion  of  the  race 
living  in  India,  who  eat  everything  nn<?  go  everywhere, 
'  contrive  to  find  it  out  anil  carry  it  away. 

But  to  us  the  most  extraordinary  of  their  qualities  is 
the  power  of  self-sacrifice,  the  almost  moral  elevation 
whereby  the  good  of  the  individual  is  given  up  to  that  of 
the  community.  A  line  of  ants  on  their  travels  were 
once  seen  trying  to  pass  a  little  stream,  which  proved  too 
rapid  for  them  to  cross.  At  last  they  hooked  themselves 
on  each  to  each,  and  thus  gradually  made  a  chain,  which 
was  carried  obliquely  to  the  other  shore  by  the  current. 
Many  were  drowned  and  lost  in  the  process,  the  foremost 
of  the  band  were  often  baffled  and  knocked  about  in  the 
rushing  water,  but  the  floating  bridge  was  at  last  com- 
plete, and  the  rest  of  the  army  marched  in  safety  upon 
the  bodies  of  their  self-sacrificing  fellows.  Could  any 
eo -called  reasoning  men  have  done  better,  or  as  well  ? 
Our  pontoons  are  not  made  of  living  men. 

In  India,  the  precautions  taken  against  their 


ANTS  AND  THEIR  ORGANIZATION.          217 

are  many  and  ingenious,  but  the  man  is  almost  always 
baffled  by  the  insect;  wood,  paper,  cloth,  provisions, 
everything  but  metal  is  consumed;  even  the  legs  oi 
tables  are  hollowed  out,  and  left  standing  as  empty  shells, 
which  give  way  at  a  touch.  In  one  case,  some  preserves 
had  been  put  in  a  closet,  isolated  from  the  wall,  with 
feet  set  in  basins  of  water.  The  ants,  however,  were 
not  to  be  so  outwitted ;  they  crawled  up  to  the  ceiling 
and  let  themselves  down,  each  ant  hanging  on  to  the  one 
above  him,  till  the  last  link  touched  the  goal,  when  a 
stream  of  hungry  applicants  ran  down  and  made  short 
work  of  the  coveted  treasure.  Did  those  who  thus 
profited  give  any  of  the  food  to  the  self-sacrificing 
members  of  the  living  chain,  I  wonder  ?  And  what 
reward  did  the  patriot  receive  who  held  on  to  the  ceiling 
and  bore  the  weight  of  the  rope  of  ants  ? 

No  wonder  that  the  emmet  has  been  held  up  as  a 
model  of  wisdom  and  industry  since  men  have  "  made 
morals "  at  all ;  that  Solomon  declares  the  ants  to  be 
"  a  people  not  strong,  but  exceeding  wise,"  who 
"prepare  their  meat  in  the  summer;  "  that  Milton  talks 
with  respect  of  "  the  parsimonious  emmet,  provident  of 
future, 

"  In  small  room,  large  heart  enclosed." 

But  the  highest  praise  he  has  received  is  from  Mr. 
Darwin,  who  says  that  "  the  size  of  the  brain  is  closely 
connected  with  higher  mental  powers,  and  the  cerebral 
ganglia  of  ants  is  of  extraordinary  comparative  dimen« 


J     218  TINY   WORLD. 

sions.  Still  cubic  contents  are  no  accurate  gauge  ;  there 
may  be  extraordinary  mental  activity  with  extremely 
small  absolute  mass  of  nervous  matter.  It  seems  as  if 
the  fineness  of  the  quality  was  more  important  even  than 
its  quantity.  "  The  wonderfully  diversified  instincts, 
mental  powers,  and  affections  of  ants  exist  with  cerebral 
ganglia  not  so  large  as  the  quarter  of  a  small  pin's  head." 
A  son  of  Mr.  Darwin  succeeded  in  the  anatomy  of  an  ant's 
brain,  and  his  father  observes,  "  It  is  one  of  the  most 
marvellous  atoms  of  matter  in  the  world.  More  so  even 
than  the  brain  of  man." 

Yet  such  is  the  prodigal  wealth  of  nature  that  millions 
on  millions  of  these  "marvellous  atoms"  come  into  the 
world  every  summer,  with  apparently  no  other  end  than 
to  be  eaten  and  crushed,  and  to  die  in  a  hundred  different 
ways,  after  their  few  days  of  life.  Their  use  in  the 
world,  as  far  as  we  can  fathom  it,  is  as  scavengers ;  but, 
if  we  had  been  born  ants,  we  should  probably  consider 
this  a  wretchedly  perfunctory  account  of  the  be  all  and 
end  all  of  our  existence. 

The  ant  may  not  be  able  to  see  very  far,  but  one  haa 
a  painful  perception  that  our  own  vision  is  relatively  not 
much  less  narrow* 


LIFE    IN    A    DROP    OF   WATER 


LIFE  IN  A  DEOP  OF  WATER 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  PLANT- ANIMALS  "    AND    "  FIRST-LIFE." 

DO  you  ask  is  there  life  in  a  drop  of  water  ? 
Yes,  indeed,  there  are  beings  born  in  millions,  and 
living  and  dying  in  a  dwelling  so  small.     This  is  one  of 
the  startling  truths  which  science  has  told  us  in  modern 
times. 

Without  the  microscope,  the  ancients  knew  nothing  of 
its  wonderful  revelations — of  the  worlds  of  life,  infinite 
in  number,  which  occupy  every  spot  of  our  earth  and 
ocean — and  doubtless,  of  every  planet  of  our  system,  and 
every  star  that  twinkles  alone  in  the  blue*  sky,  or  mingles 
its  fading  light  with  the  milky  way.  Microscopes,  small 
and  great,  cheap  and  expensive,  are  everywhere  in  use, 
and  the  humblest  observer,  with  the  smallest  means, 
may  obtain  amusement  and  instruction,  and  even  make 


TINY   WORLD. 

important  discoveries  in  this  new  and  curious  department 
of  Natural  Science. 

We  must  not  expect,  however,  to  see  in  a  drop  of 
water  the  gigantic  life  with  which  the  street  philosopher 
startles  the  young  and  the  ignorant.  The  larvae  of 
dragon-flies,  sometimes  an  inch  long,  and  the  beetles, 
gnats,  crabs,  and  worms  of  different  kinds,  which  are 
intruded  into  the  showman's  drop,  are  but  a  poor 
expression  of  the  mass  of  life  and  the  unrivalled  organi- 
zations which  the  microscope  reveals  to  us. 

The  name  of  Infusoria  has  been  generally  given  to 
these  living  atoms,  from  their  being  found  most  copiously 
in  infusions  of  animal  and  vegetable  matter  exposed  to 
the  air. 

These  little  creatures  are  generally  invisible  to  the 
naked  eye,  varying  in  size  from  the  thousandth  to  the 
twenty-five  thousandth  part  of  an  inch,  and  they  are 
sometimes  found  in  such  a  mass,  that  the  space  between 
each  is  not  greater  than  one  of  themselves.  They  are 
found  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  colouring  the  waters 
of  lakes  and  pools  with  a  scum  of  various  colours,  and 
sometimes  forming  marine  deposits  of  great  extent, 
and  siliceous  and  calcareous  strata,  consisting  of  thb 
coverings,  or  shells,  in  which  they  lived.  Carried 
up  into  the  atmosphere,  these  living  atoms  are 
diffused  by  every  passing  breeze  over  the  sea  and 
the  land.  They  are  thus  raised  to  the  tops  of  the 
highest  mountains,  and  taken  to  the  bottoms  of  the 
deepest  mines. 


LIFE    IN    A    DROP    OF   WATER.  228 

Their  most  prolific  home,  however,  is  in  lakes  and 
ponds,  to  which  they  impart  the  most  varied  colours. 

Many  of  them  give  a  blood-red  colour  to  water,  others 
an  orange  or  ochreous  hue,  others  a  yellow,  some  an 
intense  green,  and  some  a  milky  or  opalescent  tint.  In  a 
smgle  day,  a  lake  of  clear  wa.ter  will  become  green.  In 
the  middle  of  the  day,  a  bright  sun  will  bring  the 


A    DROP    OP    STAGNANT    WATER. 

Magnified  eighty  diameters. 

infusoria  to  the  surface,  and  colour  the  water,  which  will 
ag&Mi  become  clear  at  sunset. 

It  is  almost  impossible,  without  numerous  and  accurate 
drawings,  to  give  to  the  general  reader  anything  like  an 
idea  of  the  singular  forms  of  the  microscopic  world ;  of 
their  structure  and  their  transformations. 

Some  are  oval,  some  spherical ;  others  resemble 
various  objects  natural  and  artificial,  such  as  different 


224  TINY    WORLD. 

kinds  of  fruit,  eels,  worms,  serpents,  crabs,  and  molluscaa 
wheels,  cylinders,  bottles,  funnels,  &c. 

Their  coverings  are  either  soft  and  membranous,  like 
leeches;  or  hard,  like  horn  or  shell.  When  hard,  thu 
covering  is  sometimes  composed  wholly  of  silica,  or  flint ; 
and  sometimes  of  carbonate  of  lime,  or  marble.  These 
shell-coverings  consist  of  two  or  more  valves,  which  in 
the  bacillaria  are  finely  grooved,  and  sometimes  covered 
with  ppines  or  knobs. 

When  the  covering  is  gelatinous,  or  soft,  it  has  often 
the  shape  of  a  bell-glass,  a  cone,  or  a  cylinder,  with  an 
opening  to  allow  the  animal  to  protrude.  Within  this 
case  it  reproduces  itself,  the  case  continuing  till  the  cover- 
ing bursts,  and  allows  the  young  to  escape. 

The  principal  organs  of  the  infusoria  are  hairs,  or  cilia, 
like  those  of  the  human  eyelash.  A  hair  of  this  kind 
forms  a  proboscis,  which  the  creature  uses  as  an  oar,  or 
paddle,  to  give  it  a  progressive  motion,  and  drag  the  food 
into  its  mouth.  These  cilia  are  often  arranged  in  clusters, 
surrounding  the  mouth  of  the  animalcule,  or  arranged 
in  rows  over  the  body.  They  have  a  rapid  vibratory 
motion,  and,  in  the  rotatory  infusoria,  where  they 
resemble  toothed  wheels  in  constant  revolution,  their 
action  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  sights  in  the 
animal  world.  The  other  external  organs  of  the 
infusoria  are  bristles,  slender  and  thick,  for  supporting 
their  body ;  and  horns,  claws,  and  processes  or  pro- 
jections which  they  can  protrude  from  any  part  ol 
their  substance. 


LIPZ    IN    A    DROP    OF    WATER. 


225 


That  these  creatures  have  a  nervous  system  has  been 
inferred  from  their  possessing  eyes,  which  have  the  form 
of  red  spots,  from  two  to  seven  or  eight  in  number, 
arranged  in  lines,  triangles,  or  circles.  In  some  of  them 
a  crystalline  lens  has  been  detected — the  most  important 
part  of  an  organ  of  sight. 


A   STAGNANT    POOL. 

That  these  creatures  require  air  like  other  forms  of  life 
is,  with  some  exceptions,  proved  by  many  facts. 

If  the  air  is  excluded  from  the  water  which  contains 
them,  either  by  a  film  of  oil,  or  by  a  stopper  in  the  bottle, 

Q 


226 


TINY    WORL1J. 


they  gradually  perish.  They  live  longer  in  nitrogen  gaf 
than  in  hydrogen,  or  in  carbonic  acid  gas,  but  they  die  in 
the  vapour  of  sulphur. 

The  influence  of  poisons  upon  them  is  curious.  When 
combined  chemically  with  the  water  the  poison  destroys 
them  instantly,  but  when  it  is  only  mechanically  mixed 
with  it  they  are  not  greatly  affected  by  it.  Strychnine 
kills  them  instantly,  but  they  survive  both  calomel  and 
corrosive  sublimate. 

The  infusoria  are  killed  by  electrical,  galvanic,  and 
magnetic  currents.  They  cannot  endure  a  very  great 
degree  of  cold.  Many  of  them  can  live  in  a  temperature  oi 
125°  of  Fahrenheit,  some  in  water  raised  to  200°,  but  they 
generally  die  at  140°,  when  the  heat  is  suddenly  applied. 

One  of  the  most  singular  properties  of  some  of  the 
creatures  we  have  been  examining  is  their  phospho- 
rescence, or  faculty  of  emitting  light,  like  the  female 
glow-worm,  and  some  species  of  centipedes.  The  light 
which  they  discharge  is  but  a  single  spark,  that  lasts  only 
for  a  second ;  and  it  is  by  the  united  light  of  millions  that 
the  phosphorescence  of  the  sea  is  produced.  Some 
individuals  of  the  same  species  are  phosphorescent,  and 
others  not. 

The  animals  which  produce  the  phosphorescence  of  the 
sea  is  an  atom  about  the  1000th  part  of  an  inch  in  size. 
It  is  a  viscous  or  gelatinous  body  resembling,  according 
to  Professor  Huxley,  a  peach,  one  surface  being  a  little 
excavated,  with  a  groove  or  depression  running  from  one 
side  of  the  excavation  half  way  to  the  other  pole.  It  hai 


LIFE    IN    A   DROP    OF   WATER. 

a  funnel-shaped  mouth,  with  a  curved  ciliary  process,  b}' 
which  it  propels  itself  through  the  water. 

The  animalcular  hodies,  whose  general  character  and 
properties  we  have  been  describing,  have  been  arranged 
under  five  groups,  namely,  Phytozoa,  Protozoa,  Rotator ia, 
Tardigrade^  and  Bacillaria,  long  words,  but,  as  you  will 
see,  both  useful  and  simple. 

The  first  group  is  known  as  the  PHYTOZOA,  a  term 
signifying  plant-animals,  having  been  considered  by  some 
naturalists  as  animal-like  plants;  but,  whatever  name  we 
give  them,  they  certainly  stand  on  the  borders  of  the 
animal  and  vegetable  kingdom,  "  some  distinctly  belong- 
ing to  the  latter,  some  doubtfully  to  the  former,  while 
many  pass  through  such  phases  of  existence  that  at  one 
time  they  assume  the  characters  of  animals,  and  at 
another  those  of  plants." 

The  animalcules  of  this  group  are  generally  round  or 
oval,  often  with  a  long  neck,  carrying  the  cilia  by  which 
they  move.  Their  shape  and  size  are  strangely  dependent 
on  the  light  which  falls  upon  them.  In  addition  to  the 
case,  or  covering,  and  the  processes  which  give  strength 
to  the  animalcule,  there  are  two  (occasionally  only  one) 
cilia,  or  long  filaments,  by  which  they  move,  acting  as 
rudders  to  turn  them  on  themselves. 

The  motions  of  some  are  very  slow,  but  of  others  varied 
and  lively ;  in  some  oscillating  or  rolling ;  in  others, 
revolving  or  leaping.  They  have  no  mouths  or  stomachs, 
and  must  therefore  be  nourished  by  imbibing  their 
nutriment  through  their  cells. 


228  TINY    WORLD. 

This  class  of  animalcule  is  multiplied  by  self- division, 
or  fission.  In  the  accompanying  illustration  (subject  B), 
this  process  may  be  observed  in  all  its  stages. 

The  contents  of  the  cell  divide  themselves  into  two  or 
more  parts,  each  of  which  can  form  round  itself  a  gelati- 
nous covering,  and  assume  an  existence  of  its  own. 
Another  kind  of  multiplication  takes  place,  when,  instead 
of  two  or  more  single  animalcules  being  formed,  a  colony 


INFUSORIA. 

is  produced,  consisting  of  several  single  cells  within  a 
common  envelope.  A  still  more  remarkable  reproduction 
takes  place  when  the  division  extends  beyond  the  third 
and  fourth  generation,  until  20  or  40,  or  80,  or  100,.  or 
even  1000  and  more,  of  minute  cell  structures  are  pro- 
duced, in  order  to  propagate  the  species  by  their  future 

Note  to  Illustration.— A,  Stentor,  or  '•  Trumpet-animalcules."  B,  Group  of 
Vorticellce :  a  a,  Vorticdlce  in  a  natural  and  undisturbed  condition  :  b  k,  Vorti- 
cella?  contracted  in  a  spiral  manner  on  their  stems ;  a  feature  exhibited  when 
the  animalcules  are  irritated  or  disturbed :  c,  an  individual  undergoing  a 
process  of  "  fission  "  or  "  cleavage  : "  d,  further  stage  of  c,  two  heads  being 
produced  by  the  cleavage  of  one  animalcule  :  e,  one  of  the  heads  swimming 
away  after  becoming  detached  from  the  stalk.  This  latter  will  in  time  deve- 
lope  a  stalk  and  become  a  perfect  animalcule. 


LIFE    IN    A    DROP    OF    WATER. 


229 


development.  These  little  bodies  hurry  about  or  swarm 
within  the  original  cell,  till  they  are  set  free  by  its  rupture, 
each  having  a  spindle-shaped  figure,  terminated  by  two  or 
four  cilia. 

Some  of  the  members  of  this  family  (the  monas  termo) 
are  the  smallest  of  created  beings — being  only  the 
6000th,  and  others  the  1200th  part  of  an  inch,  so  that 
they  require  a  magnifying  power  of  about  500  to  exhibit 


INFUSOKIA. 

their  structure.  They  are  supposed  to  be  nothing  more 
than  the  simplest  stage  in  the  existence  of  many  animal 
and  vegetable  organisms.  The  monas  is  a  round  gluti- 
nous substance,  and  is  generally  colourless,  though  some- 
times green,  yellowish,  and  reddish.  It  is  one  of  the 
most  common  organisms  in  infusions  of  animal  and 
vegetable  matter.  Its  organ  of  locomotion  is  a  filiform 
proboscis  near  its  mouth,  by  means  of  which  it  provides 

Note  to  Illustration. — a.  Paramvcitim  aurelia :  b,  Euptotes  patella :  c,  Aspi- 
disca  lynctus :  d,  Euplotes  Charon  :  0,  Peranema  globulosa :  f,  Vaginit'ola  crystal- 
Una,  showing  the  sheath  into  which  the  animalcules  can  retract  themselves. 


280  HNY    WOBLD. 

its  food.  The  monas  is  multiplied  rapidly  by  self- division, 
and  does  not  collect  into  clusters. 

Another  family  of  the  Phytozoa  derive  their  name, 
VolvoxincB,  from  their  rolling  motion,  and  are  remarkable 
for  the  singular  beauty  of  their  forms. 

One  of  the  most  curious  of  these  bodies  consists  of  a 
hollow  transparent  globe,  with  small  green  spots  regularly 
distributed.  By  means  of  cilia  from  these  spots  &11  the 
movements  of  the  organism  are  produced.  When  the 
sphere  bursts  it  discharges  a  number  of  little  spheres, 
which  gradually  become  like  itself,  their  motion  being 
visible  before  they  have  left  the  parent  cell.  When 
colouring  matter  is  put  into  the  water,  strong  currents 
are  seen  round  each  globe.  The  volvoxes  are  found  in 
shallow  pools  of  clear  water,  in  spring  and  in  summer. 
The  largest  are  about  the  30th,  the  smallest  about  the 
860th,  and  a  single  globule  about  the  8600th  part  of  an 
inch.  Yet  Rotifers  have  been  found  swimming  about 
within  a  volvox  as  freely  as  a  fish  in  a  glass  globe ! 

Another  interesting  family  of  the  Phytozoa,  Vibrionea, 
determine  fermentations.  They  are  found  in  all  infusions, 
have  neither  cases  nor  appendages,  but  are  linked  together 
in  threads  like  chains,  the  links  being  sometimes  only 
two  or  three  in  number.  The  chains  have  a  writhing 
motion. 

The  second  group  of  infusorial  life  is  called  PROTOZOA, 
from  Greek  words  that  signify  first  life,  or  the  simplest 
form  of  life. 

Some  of  these  have  an  external   coat  covered 


LIFE    IN    A    DROP    OF    WATER.  231 

vibrating  cilia,  by  which  they  swim.  When  this  coat  is 
hard,  it  is  furnished  with  bristles,  by  which  they  crawl  or 
leap.  They  have  a  mouth,  a  stomach,  and  many  of  them 
an  opening  behind.  They  multiply  by  self- division,  by 
budding,  or  by  internal  germs.  They  vary  in  size  from 
the  12th  to  the  2300th  of  an  inch.  They  present  ^  great 
variety  of  shapes,  but  are  always  round  in  outline.  They 


FORAMINIFERA — Globigerina. 

pass  through  a  great  many  phases  of  existence.  One  of 
these  devours  its  own  species,  though  nearly  as  large  as 
itself,  widening  its  mouth,  and  moving  about  with  its 
half-swallowed  food.  In  their  motions  the  Ciliata  often 
stop  and  reverse  their  course.  Professor  Owen  thinks 
that  their  motions,  are  not  voluntary,  but  automatic, 
governed  by  stimuli  within  or  without  the  body,  and 
therefore  motions  which  never  tire.  They  always  move 


232  TINY    WORLD. 

as  actively  in  the  night  as  in  the  day,  and  therefore  they 
never  sleep. 

Another  family  of  the  Protozoa  have  no  cilia,  but 
move  by  false  feet  or  shifting  offshoots  from  their  body. 
The  animals  consist  of  a  soft,  tremulous,  transparent 
jelly  or  mucus,  constantly  changing  its  shape  by  pushing 
out  at  one  or  more  points  the  processes  or  offshoots 
already  mentioned.  This  group  contains  three  well  marked 
families,  all  of  which  swallow  various  species  of  the 
Ciliata  and  Rotatoria ;  and  within  them  have  been  found 
particles  of  sand,  morsels  of  woollen  and  cotton  cloth, 
portions  of  Algae,  and  frustules  of  Diatoms. 

The  Amoebina,  which  occur  both  in  fresh  and  salt 
water,  and  are  found  adhering  to  plants. 

The  Monothalamia,  some  of  which  are  marine,  and 
gome  are  found  in  fresh  water. 

And  the  Foraminifera,  which  are  all  marine,  and  abound 
both  in  the  living  and  the  fossil  state.  As  they  are 
unable  to  swim,  they  are  generally  found  crawling  on 
aquatic  plants,  sponges,  corals,  and  corallines.  They 
have  been 'found  both  on  the  surface  of  the  sea  and  at 
depths  of  12,000  feet.  The  soundings  in  the  Atlantic  are 
almost  wholly  composed  of  these  animals.  D'Orbigny 
found  3,840,000,  nearly  four  millions  of  them,  in  an  ounce 
of  sand  from  the  Antilles  I 


LIFE  IN  A  DBOP  OF  WATEK. 


CHAPTER  II. 
"WHEELS,"  "WATER-BEAKS,"  AND  "BODS." 

rPHE  third  group  of  infusorial  animalcules  is  the  ROTA- 
-*-  TORIA,  or  ROTIFERA,  a  name  derived  from  the  wheel- 
like  motion  of  the  wreaths  of  cilia  around  their  head. 

These  creatures  have  a  symmetrical  form,  with  a  dis- 
tinct head  and  body.  Their  figure  is  oblong  or  ovoidul, 
and  they  have  a  firm  skin  of  two  layers.  The  rotatory 
organ  is  furnished  with  one  or  two,  or  even  three  rows  of 
cilia,  by  which  the  animal  moves  and  captures  its  food, 
the  current  which  they  produce  being  directed  into  its 
mouth.  They  can  swim  onward  either  with  or  without 
rotation,  using  a  muscular  tail  as  a  rudder ;  and  they  can 
also  crawl  as  a  leech,  or  leap  and  skip  with  their  long 
caudal  styles.  They  have  a  distinct  stomach,  and  organs 
of  secretion  and  sensation.  Their  eye-specks  are  commonly 
red.  They  are  reproduced  by  eggs,  and  very  rapidly. 


234  TINY   WORLD. 

According  to  Ehrenberg,  a  Hi/da  tin  a  kept  in  a  separate 
vessel  101  days  laid  four  eggs  a  day,  and  their  young  laid 
the  same  number  when  two  days  old.  Hence  he  con- 
cluded, as  those  who  work  it  out  for  themselves  will  find, 
on  the  twelfth  day  sixteen  millions  may  be  produced 
They  multiply  with  such  rapidity  in  stagnant  pools  as  tc 
colour  the  water,  rendering  it  milky  or  green. 

The  fourth  group  of  infusoria  has  received  the  name  of 
TARDIGRADA,  from  the  tardiness  with  which  they  move. 
They  have  been  called  water-bears,  from  a  sort  of  resem- 
blance to  the  bear. 

They  are  parasitic  animals,  and  live  by  sucking  the 
fluids  of  others.  They  are  found  in  the  gutters  of  houses 
and  on  water-plants  and  mosses ;  and  by  shaking  those 
plants  in  a  vessel  of  water  they  will  be  found  at  the 
bottom.  Their  bodies  are  short  and  cylindrical.  They 
produce  few  but  large  eggs,  from  which  the  embryo 
emerges  in  a  perfect  state.  They  revive  after  being  kept 
dry  for  years. 

The  fifth  group  of  infusorial  animalcules  has  received 
the  name  of  BACILLARIA,  from  the  general  resemblance  of 
many  of  the  species  to  a  staff  or  rod. 

This  very  interesting  group  is  divided  into  two  families, 
the  desmidiete  and  diatomacece,  the  former  having  a  firm 
but  elastic  envelope  in  two  segments,  filled  with  grass- 
green  chlorophyle,  while  the  latter  have  a  dense  siliceous 
envelope,  consisting  of  two  opposite  valvBS.  Tho  first  of 
these  families  is  generally  considered  to  be  plants,  and 
the  second  animals. 


LIFE    IN    A    DBOP    OF   WATEH.  285 

The  Desrnidiea  have  an  envelope  so  strong  as  to  resist 
considerable  pressure.  It  is  colourless,  the  green  colour- 
ing matter,  which  is  the  same  as  that  of  plants,  being 
confined  to  the  interior.  These  bodies  move  slowly 
onwards,  and  have  an  oscillating  motion,  ascribed  by 
some  observers  to  the  escape  of  gas.  They  advance 
towards  the  light,  occupying  the  side  of  the  vessel  on 
which  the  light  falls.  The  grass-green  colouring  matter 
is  distributed  in  various  ways,  changing  its  appearance 
with  age  and  other  causes.  There  is  a  curious  circulation 
or  rotation  of  the  fluid  contents  of  these  bodies,  which  is 
finely  seen  in  sunlight,  as  produced  by  cilia. 

This  class  is  propagated  by  self-division,  the  process  of 
which  is  very  curious.  One  half  of  a  frond  moves  from 
side  to  side,  the  other  half  being  stationary,  and  its 
motion  increases  till  it  is  separated  by  a  jerk.  Reproduc- 
tion is  effected  by  the  coupling  of  two  cells  in  two  fronds. 
The  contents  of  the  cells  are  combined,  and  a  new  seed 
case  is  produced.  The  Desmidieje  are  found  in  fresh 
water  in  every  part  of  the  globe.  They  form  green 
masses  on  the  surface  of  standing  water,  discharging 
oxygen  rapidly  during  sunshine,  and  again  returning  to  the 
bottom  in  the  evening.  They  are  the  food  of  various  small 
aquatic  animals,  and  the  oxygen  which  they  discharge 
has  been  supposed  to  preserve  the  freshness  of  water. 

Diatomacea  have  a  peculiar  interest,  from  the  siliceous 
envelopes  in  which  they  live,  and  which  are  preserved  iu 
all  their  beauty  after  the  animals  themselves  have  perished. 

The  bodies  which  compose  this  family  have  a  great 


236  TINT    WORLD. 

variety  of  forms.  They  are  sometimes  long  and  narrow, 
like  a  weaver's  shuttle  or  a  boat,  sometimes  square,  or 
globular,  or  wedge-shaped,  or  cylindrical  like  a  pill-box. 
The  frustules  occur  single,  or  attached  to  a  stalk,  or 
linked  together  in  chains,  or  adhering-  in  tufts.  The 
siliceous  shells  have  only  one  cavity.  Neither  a  red  heat 
nor  the  strongest  acids  affect  these  shells.  *  The  silex 
does  not  polarise  light,  but  this  arises  from  its  extreme 
thinness,  for  a  film  of  quartz  crystal  of  the  same  thick- 
ness would  not  polarise  light  visibly.  The  siliceous 
shells  are  marked  with  line  lines  or  striae,  which  may 
sometimes  be  resolved  into  rows  of  minute  dots,  and 
hence  they  are  used  as  the  finest  test-objects  for  the 
microscope.  Some  have  supposed  that  these  markings 
are  grooves  or  depressions  ;  but  Professor  Bailey  Las 
made  it  highly  probable  that  they  are  ribs,  or  the  thickest 
part  of  the  shell.  The  cavity  of  the  shell  contains  a  soft 
substance,  with  many  granules  and  globules  of  a  brown- 
ish colour,  clustered  round  the  nucleus  or  centre  of  the 
cavity. 

The  multiplication  of  the  Diatoms  is  produced  by 
division.  The  cell  is  cut  in  two  ;  after  being  separated, 
each  has  an  independent  existence.  If  we  suppose  this 
process  to  occupy  twenty-four  hours,  the  progeny  of  a 
single  Diatom  would  in  the  course  of  a  month  amount  to 
one  thousand  millions  of  individuals. 

The  Diatoms  live  in  the  earth,  in  the  ocean,  and  in  the 
atmosphere,  and  are  more  widely  distributed  than  any 
other  organized  beings.  They  are  found  in  fresh,  salt,  and 


LIFE    IN    A    DROP    OF    WATER, 


237 


brackish  waters,  in  damp   earth,  and  about  the  roots  of 
plants.     They  are  thrown  into  the  atmosphere  by  voi- 


DIATOMACE.3S    AROUND    TOP    OF    SUBMERGED   ROSE    THORN. 

Magnified  150  diameters. 

canoes,  and  are  carried  by  the  winds  over  the  surface  of 
the  globe.     They  may  be  seen  by  the  eye  when  accumu- 


238  TINY    WORLD. 

lated  in  such  numbers  as  to  colour  the  water.  According 
to  Dr.  Hooker,  they  are  so  numerous  in  the  newly 
formed  ice  of  the  whole  Antarctic  Ocean,  as  to  stain  the 
sea,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  of  an  ochreous  colour. 

Of  the  inconceivable  multitudes  of  these  creatures 
which  the  world  contains,  the  following  facts  will  be  a- 
sufficient  illustration. 

Their  dead  and  decomposing  bodies  form  the  greater 
part  of  a  submarine  bank  400  miles  long  and  120  wide 
between  the  parallels  of  76°  and  78°  of  S.  latitude,  and 
the  meridians  of  165°  E.  and  160°  W.  longitude.  They 
often  form  from  one-fourth  to  one-third  of  the  fine  mud  of 
rivers,  such  as  the  Thames,  the  Elbe,  the  Scheldt,  and 
the  Columbia  in  America,  where  there  is  a  bed  of  clay, 
500  feet  thick,  entirely  composed  of  fresh-water  infusoria. 

The  abundance  of  infusorial  animals  and  other  matter 
in  the  atmosphere  has  been  placed  beyond  a  doubt  by 
Ehrenberg.  In  the  showers  of  dust  which  frequently 
fall,  and  in  what  is  called  blood  rain  and  meteoric  paper, 
he  found  above  a  hundred  different  species  of  Diatoms. 
A  dust  shower  that  fell  at  Lyons  in  1846  contained  solid 
matter  which  weighed  7,200  cwt.  I 

When  we  first  hear  of  "  Life  in  a  Drop  of  Water,"  the 
idea  would  hardly  occur  to  us  that  creatures,  which 
require  a  powerful  microscope  to  show  them,  could  be  of 
any  service  to  man,  and  still  less  that  they  performed 
important  functions  in  the  economy  of  the  globe".  Dr. 
Hooker  is  of  opinion  that  on  the  Antarctic  deposits  of  the 
Diatomaceae  the  whole  of  the  animal  kingdom  which 


LIFE    IN    A    DROP    OF    WATER.  239 

swarms  in  the  waters  of  the  Antarctic  Ocean,  perhaps, 
ultimately  depends  for  its  existence. 

They  also'  purify  the  vitiated  atmosphere,  as  plants  of 
a  higher  order  do  in  more  temperate  regions.  Bat  it  is 
mot  the  inhabitants  of  the  sea  only  that  the  Diatoms  feed. 
In  some  parts  of  Lapland  and  Hungary,  and  in  other 
parts  of  the  world,  they  form  an  article  of  food  in  seasons 
of  famine.  In  Java,  an  earth  called  Tanah,  containing 
infusorial  animalcules,  is  eaten  as  a  delicacy  by  the  inha- 
bitants of  Samarang  and  Java. 

Others,  again,  determine  fermentations,  and  can  multiply 
indefinitely.  They  are  less  than  the  17000th  part  of  an 
inch  in  breadth.  They  have  the  form  of  small  cylindrical 
rods,  generally  straight  and  rounded  at  their  ends. 
They  exist  as  single  individuals,  united  in  chains  of  two, 
three,  or  four,  or  even  more  joints.  The  length  of  the 
joint  varies  from  the  17000th  to  the  1250th  of  an  inch. 
They  advance  by  a  sliding  motion,  during  which  their 
bodies  remain  rigid,  and  experience  slight  undulations. 
They  whirl  round,  and  tremble  actively  in  the  anterior 
and  posterior  parts  of  their  body.  The  undulations  in 
their  movements  are  very  perceptible  when  the  size  of 
the  animalcule  is  the  17000th  part  of  an  inch.  They 
are  often  bent  at  one  of  their  ends,  and  sometimes  at 
both,  a  peculiarity  not  common  at  the  commencement  of 
their  life.  They  are  reproduced  by  the  separation  of  the 
joints  into  young. 

In  every  quarter  of  the  world  the  Foraminiferse  form  a 
large  portion  of  the  calcareous  and  tertiary  rocks.  They 


240 


TINY    WORLD. 


are  the  principal  ingredient  in  limestone  rocks  used  in 
building,  such  as  those  which  form  the  Pyramids  ol 
Egypt.  They  are  abundant  in  the  "tertiary  rocks  oi 
South  Carolina,  Charleston  being  built  on  a  bed  of  marl 
236  feet  thick.  "  They  are  still  at  work,"  says  Dr. 
Bailey,  "  in  countless  thousands  on  the  coast,  filling 
up  harbonrs,  forming  shoals,  and  depositing  shells,  to 
record  the  present  state  of  the  seashore,  as  their  pre- 
decessors now  entombed  beneath  Charleston  have  done 
with  regard  to  ancient  coasts." 

The  geological  interest  of  the  Diatomaceae  is  still 
greater  than  that  of  the  Foraminiferse.  They  are  pro- 
duced and  accumulated  with  much  rapidity  in  hot 
weather,  and  in  stagnant  waters.  A  pound  of  them  may 
be  collected  in  half  an  hour ;  and  every  grain  of  the 
pound  contains  a  hundred  million  Diatoms. 

An  inquiry  into  the  origin  of  the  "  life  in  a  drop  of 
water  "  has  presented  it  in  a  more  remarkable  aspect,  as 
connected  with  profound  questions  in  physiology  .  and 
natural  religion.  But  whatever  difference  of  opinion  may 
exist  respecting  the  origin  of  animalcular  life,  there  is 
but  one  opinion  about  its  universal  diffusion. 

In  the  lower  atmosphere  in  which  we  live,  the  air  is 
full  of  particles,  mineral  and  vegetable,  from  substances 
injurious  to  health,  and  of  millions  of  animalcules  born 
and  bred  in  putrid  marshes,  and  in  the  countless  charnel- 
houses  of  civilisation.  Neither  power,  nor  wealth,  nor 
science,  can  purify  the  air  which  they  poison,  or  strangle 
the  scorpions  which  'such  air  breeds. 


LIFE    IN   A   DROP   OF   WATER.  241 

The  storm  that  changes  our  aerial  food  may  leave  us 
in  a  less  salubrious  atmosphere,  and  the  zephyr's  breath 
even,  that  wafts  to  us  the  perfumes  of  summer,  may 
mingle  with  them  the  malaria  through  which  they  have 


The  thunder-bolt  from  above  may  precipitate  in  me- 
teorites the  solid  particles  in  the  atmosphere;  but  the 
ascending  lightning- stroke  again  carries  them  upward 
from  the  metalliferous  rocks  around  us. 

The  cunning  of  the  chemist  cannot  throw  down  the 
poison  that  twinkles  in  the  sunbeams,  or  slay  the  vam- 
pires that  swarm  under  our  roofs. 

"  In  the  meadows  and  on  the  heath,  on  the  river-side 
and  on  the  granite  peak,  in  the  day  and  in  tne  night, 
in  our  food  and  in  our  drink,  we  cannot  escape  from  the 
atoms  of  poison  which  we  breathe,  and  the  legions  of 
swarming,  crawling,  and  whirling  life  which  are  ever  at 
work  within  and  without  and  around* 


OORAL    AND    C<  KAL    BUILDEK8. 


COEAL  AND  COEAL  BUILDEES. 


PART  I. 

NOW  look  at  this  stone. 
What  a  curious  stone  !     Did  it  come  from  any  place 
near  here  ? 

No.  It  came  from  near  Dudley,  in  Staffordshire, 
where  the  soils  are  worlds  on  worlds  older  than  they  are 
here,  though  they  were  made  in  the  same  way  as  these 
and  all  other  soils.  But  you  are  not  listening  to  me. 

Why,  the  stone  is  full  of  shells,  and  bits  of  coral ; 
and  what  are  these  wonderful  things  coiled  and  tangled 
together,  like  the  snakes  in  Medusa's  hair  in  the  picture  ? 
Are  they  snakes  ? 

If  they  are,  then  they  must  be  snakes  who  have  all  one 
head  ;  for  see,  they  are  joined  together  at  their  larger 
ends ;  and  snakes  which  are  branched,  too,  which  no 
snake  ever  was. 

Yes.  I  suppose  they  are  not  snakes.  And  they  grow 
ou-t  of  a  flower,  too  ;  and  it  has  a  stalk,  jointed,  too,  as 


246  TINY    WOULD. 

plants  sometimes  are  ;   and  as  fishes'  backbones  are  too. 
Is  it  a  petrified  plant  or  flower  ? 

No;  though  I  do  not  deny  that  it  looks  like  one. 
The  creature  most  akin  to  it  which  you  ever  saw  is  a 
star-fish. 


COMMON   STAR-FISH. 

What !  one  of  the  red  star-fishes  which  one  finds  on 
the  beach  ?  Its  arms  are  not  branched. 

No.  But  there  are  star-fishes  with  branched  arms 
still  in  the  sea.  You  know  that  pretty  book  (and  learned 
book  too),  Forbes'  "British  Star-fishes?"  You  like  to 


CORAL  AND  CORAL  BUILDERS.  24? 

look  it  through  for  the  sake  of  the  vignettes — the 
mermaid  and  her  child  playing  in  the  sea. 

Oh  yes,  and  the  kind  bogie  who  is  piping  while  the 
sandstars  dance ;  and  the  other  who  is  trying  to  pull  out 
the  star-fish  which  the  oyster  has  caught. 

Yes.  But  do  you  recollect  the  drawing  of  the  Medusa's 
head,  with  its  curling  arms,  branched  again  and  again 
without  end  ?  Here  it  is.  No,  you  shall  not  look  at  the 


FEATHER  STAR-FISH. 

vignettes  now.  We  must  mind  business.  Now  look  at 
this  one  ;  the  Feather-star,  with  arms  almost  like  fern- 
fronds.  And  in  foreign  seas  there  are  many  other 
branched  star-fish  beside. 

But  they  have  no  stalks  ? 

Do  not  be  too  sure  of  that.  This  very  feather- star, 
soon  after  it  is  born,  grows  a  tiny  stalk,  by  which  it  holuo 
on  to  corallines  and  sea-weeds ;  and  it  is  not  till  after- 
wards that  it  breaks  loose  from  that  stalk,  and  swL- .-, 


248 


TINY    WORLD. 


away  freely  into  the  wide  water.  And  in  foreign  seas 
there  are  several  star-fish  still  who  grow  on  stalks  all 
their  lives,  as  this  fossil  one  did. 

How  strange  that  a   live  animal   should  grow   on  a 
stalk,  like  a  flower  1 


A   STALKED    STAR-FISH. 

Not  quite  like  a  flower.  A  flower  has  roots,  by  which 
it  feeds  in  the  soil.  These  things  grow  more  like  sea- 
weeds, which  have  no  roots,  but  only  hold  on  to  the 
rock  by  the  foot  of  the  stalk,  as  a  ship  holds  on  by  her 
anchor.  But  as  for  its  being  strange  that  live  animals 
should  grow  on  stalks,  if  it  be  strange  it  is  common 


CORAL  AND  CORAL  BUILDERS. 


219 


enough-,  like  many  far  stranger  things,  for  under  the 
water  are  millions  on  millions  of  creatures,  spreading  for 
miles  on  miles,  building  up  at  last  great  reefs  of  rocks, 


CORAL    AM)    CORALLINES. 


and  whole  islands,  which  all  grow  rooted  first  to  the 
rock,  like  sea-weeds  ;  and  what  is  more,  they  grow,  most 
of  them,  from  one  common  root,  branching  again  and 


250  TINY   WORLD. 

again,  and  every  branchlet  bearing  hundreds  of  living 
creatures,  so  that  the  whole  creature  is  at  once  one 
creature  and  many  creatures.  Do  you  not  understand  me  ? 

No. 

Then  fancy  to  yourself  a  bush  like  that  hawthorn  bush, 
with  numberless  blossoms,  and  every  blossom  on  that 
bush  a  separate  living  thing,  with  its  own  mouth,  and 
arms,  and  stomach,  budding  and  growing  fresh  live 


COMMON    SEA-ANEMONE. 

branches  and  fresh  live  flowers,  as  fast  as  the  old  ones 
die ;  and  then  you  will  see  better  what  I  mean. 

How  wonderful ! 

Yes ;  but  not  more  wonderful  than  your  finger,  for  it, 
too,  is  made  up  of  numberless  living  things. 

My  finger  made  of  living  things  ? 

What  else  can  it  be  ?  When  you  cut  your  finger,  does 
not  the  place  heal  ? 

Of  course. 

And  what  is  healing  but  growing  again  ?    And  how 


OOHAL  AND  CORAL  BUILDEBS.          251 

could  the  atoms  of  your  finger  grow,  and  make  fresh  skin, 
if  they  were  not  each  of  them  alive  ?  There,  I  will  riot 
puzzle  you  with  too  much  at  once  ;  you  will  know  more 
about  all  that  some  day.  Only  remember  now  that  there 
is  nothing  wonderful  in  the  world  outside  you  but  has  its 
counterpart  of  something  just  as  wonderful,  and  perhaps 
more  wonderful,  inside  you.  Man  is  the  microcosm,  the 
little  world,  said  the  philosophers  of  old ;  and  philoso- 
phers nowadays  are  beginning  to  see  that  their  old  guess 
is  actual  fact,  and  true. 

But  what  are  these  curious  sea-creatures  called,  which 
are  animals,  yet  grow  like  plants  ? 

They  have  more  names  than  I  can  tell  you,  or  you 
remember.  Those  which  helped  to  make  this  bit  of 
stone  are  called  coral-insects ;  but  they  are  not  really 
insects,  and  are  no  more  like  insects  than  you  are. 
Coral-polypes  is  the  best  name  for  them,  because  they 
have  arms  round  their  mouths,  something  like  a  cuttle- 
fish, which  the  ancients  called  Polypus.  But  the  animal 
which  you  have  seen  likest  to  most  of  them  is  a  sea- 
anemone. 

Look  now  at  this  piece  of  fresh  coral — for  coral  it  is, 
though  not  like  the  coral  which  your  sister  wears  in  her 
necklace.  You  see  it  is  full  of  pipes ;  in  each  of  those 
pipes  has  lived  what  we  will  call,  for  the  time  being,  a 
tiny  sea-anemone,  joined  on  to  his  brothers  by  some  sort 
of  flesh  and  skin  ;  and  all  of  them  together  have  built 
up,  out  of  the  lime  in  the  sea-water,  this  common  house, 
or  rather  town,  of  lime. 


252 


TINY    WORLD. 


But  is  it  not  strange  and  wonderful  ? 
Of  course  it  is :  but  so  is  everything  when  you  begin 
to  look  into  it ;  and  if  I  were  to  go  on,  and  tell  you  what 


MEDUSA   SEA-ANEMONE. 


sort  of  young  ones  these  coral-polypes  have,  and  what 
becomes  'of  them,  you  would  hear  such  wonders,  that 
you  would  be  ready  to  suspect  that  I  was  inventing 
nonsense,  or  talking  in  my  dreams.  But  all  that  belongs 


CORAL  AND  OOBAL  BUILDERS.  253 

to  Nature's  deepest  book  of  all,  which  is  called  the  Book 
of  KIND  ;  the  book  which  children  cannot  understand , 
and  in  which  only  the  very  wisest  men  are  able  to  spell 
out  a  few  words,  not  knowing,  and  of  course  not  daring 
to  guess,  what  wonder  may  come  next. 

Now  we  will  go  back  to  our  stone,  and  talk  about  how 
it  was  made,  and  how  the  stalked  star-fish,  which  you 
mistook  for  a  flower,  ever  got  into  the  stone. 

Then  do  you  think  me  silly- for  fancying  that  a  fossil 
star-fish  was  a  flower  ? 

I  should  be  silly  if  I  did.  There  is  no  silliness  in  not 
knowing  what  you  cannot  know.  You  can  only  guess 
about  new  things,  which  you  have  never  seen  before, 
by  comparing  them  with  old  things,  which  you  have 
seen  before ;  and  you  had  seen  flowers,  and  snakes,  and 
fishes'  backbones,  and  made  a  very  fair  guess  from  them. 
After  all,  some  of  these  stalked  star-figh  are  so  like 
flowers,  lilies  especially,  that  they  arc  called  Encrinites  ; 
and  the  whole  family  is  called  Crinoids,  or  lily-like 
creatures,  from  the  Greek  word  krinon,  a  lily :  and  as  for 
corals  and  corallines,  learned  men,  in  spite  of  all  their 
care  and  shrewdness,  made  mistake  after  mistake  about 
them,  which  they  had  to  correct  again  and  again,  till 
now,  I  trust,  they  have  got  at  something  very  like  the 
truth.  No,  I  shall  only  call  you  silly  if  you  do  what 
some  little  boys  are  apt  to  do — call  other  boys,  and,  still 
worse,  servants  or  poor  people,  silly  for  not  knowing 
what  they  cannot  know. 

But  are  not  poor  people  often  very  silly  about  animals 


254  TINY   WORLD. 

and  plants  ?  The  boys  at  the  village  school  say  that 
worms  are  poisonous ;  is  not  that  silly  ? 

Not  at  all.  They  know  that  adders  bite,  and  so  they 
think  that  slow-worms  bite  too.  They  are  wrong ;  and 
they  must  be  told  that  they  are  wrong,  and  scolded  il 
they  kill  a  slow- worm.  But  silly  they  are  not. 

But  is  it  not  silly  to  fancy  that  swallows  sleep  all  the 
winter  at  the  bottom  of  the  pond  ? 

I  do  not  think  so.  The  boys  cannot  know  where  the 
swallows  go  ;  and  if  you  told  them — what  is  true — that 
the  swallows  find  their  way  every  autumn  through 
France,  through  Spain,  over  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar, 
into  Morocco,  and  some,  I  believe,  over  the  great  desert 
of  Zahara  into  Negroland :  and  if  you  told  them — what 
is  true  also — that  the  young  swallows  actually  find  their 
way  into  Africa  without  having  been  along  the  road 
before  ;  because  the  old  swallows  go  south  a  week  or  two 
first,  and  leave  the  young  ones  to  guess  out  the  way  for 
themselves : — if  you  told  them  that,  then  they  would 
have  a  right  to  say,  "Do  you  expect  us  to  believe  that? 
That  is  much  more  wonderful  than  that  the  swallows 
should  sleep  in  the  pond." 

But  is  it  ? 

Yes,  to  them.  They  know  that  bats,  and  dormice, 
and  other  things  sleep  all  the  winter :  so  why  should  not 
swallows  sleep  ?  They  see  the  swallows  about  the  water, 
and  often  dipping  almost  into  it.  They  know  that  fishes 
live  under  water,  and  that  many  insects — like  May-flieE 
and  caddis-flies  and  water-beetles — live  sometimes  in  th« 


OORAL  AND  OOBAL  BUILDERS.  255 

*  ater,  sometimes  in  the  open  air ;  and  they  cannot  know 
— you  do  not  know — what  it  is  which  prevents  a  bird's 
living  under  water.  So  their  guess  is  really  a  very  fair 
one  ;  no  more  silly  than  that  of  the  savages,  who,  when 
they  first  saw  the  white  men's  ships,  with  their  huge 
sails,  fancied  they  were  enormous  sea-birds ;  and  when 
they  heard  the  cannons  fire,  said  that  the  ships  spoke 
in  thunder  and  lightning.  Their  guess  was  wrong,  but 
not  silly ;  for  it  was  the  best  guess  they  could  make. 

But  I  do  know  of  one  old  woman  who  was  silly.  She 
was  a  boy's  nurse,  and  she  gave  the  boy  a  thing  which 
she  said  was  one  of  the  snakes  which  St.  Hilda  turned 
into  stone  ;  and  told  him  that  they  found  plenty  of  them 
at  Whitby,  where  she  was  born,  all  coiled  up ;  but  what 
was  very  odd,  their  heads  had  always  been  broken  off. 
And  when  he  took  it  to  his  father,  he  told  him  it  was 
only  a  fossil  shell — an  ammonite.  And  he  went  back, 
and  laughed  at  his  nurse,  and  teased  her  till  she  was 
quite  angry. 

Then  he  was  very  lucky  that  she  did  not  box  his  ears, 
for  that  was  what  he  deserved.  I  dare  say  that,  though 
his  nurse  had  never  heard  of  ammonites,  she  was  a  wise 
old  dame  enough,  and  knew  a  hundred  things  which  he 
did  not  know,  and  which  were  far  more  important  than 
Ammonites,  even  to  him. 

How? 

Because  if  she  had  not  known  how  to  nurse  him  well, 
he  would  perhaps  have  never  grown  up  alive  and  strong. 
And  if  she  had  not  known  how  to  make  him  obey 


256  TINY   WORLD. 

and  speak  the  truth,  he  might  have  grown  up  a  naughty 
boy. 

But  was  she  not  silly  ? 

No.  She  only  believed  what  the  Whitby  folk,  I  under- 
stand, have  some  of  them  believed  for  many  hundred 
years.  And  no  one  can  be  blamed  for  thinking  as  his 
forefathers  did,  unless  he  has  cause  to  know  better. 

Surely  she  might  have  known  better. 

How?     What   reason  could  she  have  to  believe  the 


AN    AMMONITE. 

ammonite  was  a  shell  ?  It  is  not  the  least  like  cockles, 
or  whelks,  or  any  shell  she  ever  saw. 

What  reason  either  could  she  have  to  guess  that  Whifby 
cliff  had  once  been  coral-mud  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea  ? 
No  more  reason,  my  dear  child,  than  you  would  have  to 
guess  that  this  stone  had  been  coral-mud  likewise,  if  I 
did  not  teach  you  so, — or  rather,  try  to  make  you  teach 
yourself  so. 

No.  I  say  it  again.  If  you  wish  to  learn  I  will  only 
teach  you  on  condition  that  you  do  not  laugh  at,  or 


CORAL   AND   OOBAL   BUILDERS.  257 

despise,  those  good  and  honest  and  able  people  who  do 
not  know  or  care  about  these  things,  because  they  have 
other  things  to  think  of :  like  old  John  out  there 
ploughing.  He  would  not  believe  you— he  would  hardly 
believe  me — if  we  told  him  that  this  stone  had  been  once 
a  swarm  of  living  things,  of  exquisite  shapes  and  glorious 
colours.  And  yet  he  can  plough  and  sow,  and  reap  and 
mow,  and  fell  and  strip,  and  hedge  and  ditch,  and  give 
his  neighbours  sound  advice,  and  take  the  measure  of  a 
man's  worth  from  ten  minutes'  talk,  and  say  his  prayers, 
and  keep  his  temper,  and  pay  his  debts, — which  last  three 
things  are  more  than  a  good  many  folks  can  do  who  fancy 
themselves  a  whole  world  wiser  than  John  in  the  smock- 
frock. 


COKAL  AND   COEAL   BUILDEBS. 


PART  II. 

OH,  but  I  want  to  hear  about  the  exquisite  shapes  and 
glorious  colours. 

Of  course  you  do,  my  friend.  So  now  for  the  exquisite 
shapes  and  glorious  colours.  I  have  never  seen  them; 
though  I  trust  to  see  them  ere  I  die.  So  what  they  are  like 
I  can  only  tell  from  what  I  have  learnt  from  Mr.  Darwin, 
and  Mr.  Wallace,  and  Mr.  Jukes,  and  Mr.  Gosse,  and 
last,  but  not  least,  from  one  whose  soul  was  as  beautiful 
as  his  face,  Lucas  Barrett — too  soon  lost  to  science"^— who 
was  drowned  in  exploring  such  a  coral-reef  as  this  stone 
was  once. 

Then  there  are  such  things  alive  now  ? 

Yes,  and  no.  The  descendants  of  most  of  them  live 
on,  altered  by  time,  which  alters  all  things  ;  and  from 
the  beauty  of  the  children  we  can  guess  at  the  beauty 
of  their  ancestors  ;  just  as  from  the  coral-reefs  which 
exist  now  we  can  guess  how  the  coral-reefs  of  old  were 


FOSSIL   MADREPORES 


CORAL  AND  CORAL  BUILDERS.  261 

made.  And  that  this  stone  was  once  part  of  a  coral-reef 
the  corals  in  it  prove  at  first  sight. 

And  what  is  a  coral-reef  like  ? 

You  have  seen  the  room  in  the  British  Museum,  full  of 
corals,  madrepores,  brainstones,  corallines,  and  sea-ferns  ? 

Then  fancy  all  those  alive.  Not  as  they  are  now, 
white  stone,  but  covered  in  jelly  ;  and  out  of  every  pore 
a  little  polype,  like  a  flower,  peeping  out.  Fancy  them 
of  every  gaudy  colour  you  choose.  No  bed  of  flowers, 
they  say,  can  be  more  brilliant-  than  the  corals,  as  you 
look  down  ou  them  through  the  clear  sea.  Fancy,  again, 
growing  among  them  and  crawling  over  them,  strange 
sea-anemones,  shells,  star-fish,  sea-slugs,  and  sea-cucum- 
bers with  feathery  gills,  crabs  and  shrimps,  and  hundreds 
of  other  animals,  all  as  strange  in  shape,  an'd  as  bril- 
liant in  colour.  You  may  let  your  fancy  run  wild. 
Nothing  so  odd,  nothing  so  gay,  even  entered  your 
dreams,  or  a  poet's,  as  you  may  find  alive  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea,  in  the  live  flower-gardens  of  the  sea-fairies. 

There  will  be  shoals  of  fish,  too,  playing  in  and  out, 
as  strange  and  gaudy  as  the  rest — parrot-fish  who  browse 
on  the  live  coral  with  their  beak-like  teeth,  as  cattle 
browse  on  grass ;  and  at  the  bottom,  it  may  be,  larger 
and  uglier  fish,  who  eat  the  crabs  and  shell-fish,  shells 
and  all,  grinding  them  up  as  a  dog  grinds  a  bone,  and 
BO  turning  shells  and  corals  into  fine  soft  mud  such  as 
this  stone  is  partly  made  of. 

But  what  happens  to  all  the  delicate  little  corals  if  i 
storm  comes  on  ? 


268  TINY    WORLD. 

What  indeed  ?  Dame  Nature  has  made  them  so  well 
and  wisely,  that,  like  brave  and  good  men,  the  more 
trouble  they  suffer  the  stronger  they  are.  Day  and  night, 
week  after  week,  the  trade-wind  blows  upon  them,  hurl- 
ing the  waves  against  them  in  furious  surf,  knocking  ofi 
great  lumps  of  coral,  grinding  them  to  powder,  throwing 
them  over  the  reef  into  the  shallow  water  inside.  But 
the  heavier  the  surf  beats  upon  them,  the  stronger  the 
corals  outside  grow,  repairing  their  broken  houses, 
and  building  up  fresh  coral  on  the  dead  coral  below, 
because  it  is  in  the  fresh  sea- water  that  beats  upon  the 
surf  that  they  find  most  lime  with  which  to  build.  And 
as  they  build  they  form  a  barrier  against  the  surf,  inside 
of  which,  in  water  still  as  glass,  the  weaker  and  more 
delicate  things  can  grow  in  safety,  just  as  these  very 
encrinites  may  have  grown,  rooted  in  the  lime-mud,  and 
waving  their  slender  arms  at  the  bottom  of  the  clear 
lagoon. 

Such  mighty  builders  are  these  little  coral  polypes, 
that  all  the  works  of  men  are  small  compared  with  theirs. 
One  single  reef,  for  instance,  which  is  entirely  made  by 
them,  stretches  along  the  north-east  coast  of  Australia 
for  nearly  a  thousand  miles.  Of  this  you  must  read 
some  day  in  Mr.  Jukes's  "  Voyage  of  H.M.S.  Fly." 
Every  island  throughout  a  great  part  of  the  Pacific  is 
.fringed  round  each  with  its  coral-reef,  and  there  are 
hundreds  of  islands  of  strange  shapes,  and  of  Atolls,  aa 
they  are  called,  or  ring-islands,  which  are  composed 
entirely  of  coral,  and  of  nothing  else. 


CORAL  AND  CORAL  BUILDERS.  263 

A  ring-island,  you  say  ?  How  can  an  island  be  made 
in  the  shape  of  a  ring  ? 

Ah !  it  was  a  long  time  before  men  found  out  that 
riddle.  Mr.  Darwin  was  the  first  to  guess  the  answer, 
as  he  has  guessed  many  an  answer  beside.  These 
islands  are  each  a  ring,  or  nearly  a  ring,  of  coral,  with 


A   RING- ISLAND. 


smooth  shallow  water  inside :  but  their  outsides  run 
down,  like  a  mountain  wall,  sheer  into  seas  hundreds  of 
fathoms  deep. 

People  used  to  believe,  and  reasonably  enough,  that 
the  coral-polypes  began  to  build  up  the  islands  from  the 
very  bottom  of  the  deep  sea.  But  that  would  not  account 


264  ttNY   WORLD. 

for  the  top  of  them  being  of  the  shape  of  a  ring ;  and 
in  time  it  was  found  out  that  the  corals  would  not  build 
except  in  shallow  water,  twenty  or  thirty  fathoms  deep 
at  most,  and  men  were  at  their  wits'  end  to  find  out  the 
riddle.  Then  said  Mr.  Darwin — 

"Suppose  one  of  those  beautiful  South  Sea  islands, 
like  Tahiti,  the  Queen  of  Isles,  with  its  ring  of  coral-reef 
all  round  its  shore,  began  sinking  slowly  under  the  sea, 
The  land,  as  it  sunk,  would  be  gone  for  good  and  all ; 
but  the  coral-reef  round  it  would  not,  because  the  coral- 
polypes  would  build  up  and  up  continually  upon  the 
skeletons  of  their  dead  parents,  to  get  to  the  surface  of 
the  water,  and  would  keep  close  to  the  top  outside, 
however  much  the  land  sunk  inside ;  and  when  the  island 
had  sunk  completely  beneath  the  sea,  what  would  be  left  ? 
What  must  be  left,  but  a  ring  of  coral-reef,  around  the 
spot  where  the  last  mountain  peak  of  the  island  sank 
beneath  the  sea  ?  " 

And  so  Mr.  Darwin  explained  the  shapes  of  hundreds 
of  coral  islands  in  the  Pacific  ;  and  proved,  too,  some 
strange  things  besides.  He  proved  (and  other  men,  like 
Mr.  Wallace,  whose  excellent  book  on  the  East  Indian 
islands  you  must  read  some  day,  have  proved  in  other 
ways)  that  there  was  once  a  great  continent,  joined 
perhaps  to  Australia  and  to  New  Guinea,  in  the  Pacific 
Ocean,  where  is  now  nothing  but  deep  sea,  and  coral-reefs 
which  mark  the  mountain  ranges  of  that  sunken  world. 

But  how  does  the  coral  ever  rise  above  the  surface  oi 
the  water  and  turn  into  hard  stone  ? 


OOBAL    AND    CORAL    BUILDERS.  267 

Of  course  the  coral-polypes  cannot  build  above  the. 
high -tide  mark ;  but  the  surf  which  beats  upon  them 
piles  up  their  broken  fragments  just  as  a  sea-beach  is 
piled  up,  and  hammers  them  together  with  that  water 
hammer  which  is  heavier  and  stronger  than  any  you  have 
ever  seen  in  a  smith's  forge.  And  then,  as  is  the  fashion 
of  lime,  the  whole  mass  sets,  and  becomes  hard,  as  you 
may  see  mortar  set ;  and  so  you  have  a  low  island  a  few 
feet  above  the  sea. 

Then  sea-birds  come  to  it,  and  rest  and  build;  and 
seeds  are  floated  thither  from  far  lands ;  and  among 
them  almost  always  the  cocoa-nut,  which  loves  to  grow  by 
the  sea-shore,  and  groves  of  cocoa  palms  grow  up  upon 
the  lonely  isle.  Then,  perhaps,  trees  and  bushes  are 
drifted  thither  before  the  trade-wind ;  and  entangled  in 
their  roots  are  seeds  of  other  plants,  and  eggs  or  cocoons 
of  insects;  and  so  a  few  flowers  and  a  few  butterflies 
and  beetles  set  up  for  themselves  upon  the  new  land, 
And  then  a  bird  or  two,  caught  in  a  storm  and  blown 
away  to  sea,  finds  shelter  in  the  cocoa-grove ;  and  so  a 
little  new  world  is  set  up,  in  which  (you  must  remember 
always)  there  are  no  four-footed  beasts,  nor  snakes,  nor 
lizards,  nor  frogs,  nor  any  animals  that  cannot  cross  the 
tea. 

And  on  some  of  those  islands  they  may  live  (indeed 
there  is  reason  to  believe  they  have  lived)  so  long,  that 
some  of  them  have  changed  their  forms,  according  to  the 
laws  of  Nature,  who  sooner  or  later  fits  each  thing  exactly 
for  the  place  in  which  it  is  meant  to  live,  till  upon  soma 


268  TINT  WOULD. 

of  them  yon  may  find  such  strange  and  unique  forms  as 
the  famous  cocoa-nut  crab,  which  learned  men  call  Biryu* 
latro. 

A  great  crab  he  is,  who  walks  upon  the  tips  of  his  toes 
a  foot  high  above  the  ground.  And  because  he  has  often 
nothing  to  eat  but  cocoa-nuts,  or  at  least  they  are  the 
best  things  he  can  find,  cocoa-nuts  he  has  learned  to  eat, 
and  after  a  fashion  which  it  would  puzzle  you  to  imitate. 
The  sailors  used  to  say  that  he  climbed  up  the  stems  of 
the  cocoa-nut  trees,  and  pulled  the  fruit  down  for  himself ; 
but  that,  it  seems,  is  not  quite  true.  What  he  really 
does  is  this  :  when  he  finds  a  fallen  cocoa-nut,  he  begins 
tearing  away  the  thick  husk  and  fibre  with  his  strong 
claws  ;  and  he  knows  perfectly  well  which  end  to  tear  it 
from,  namely,  from  the  end  where  the  three  eye-holes  are, 
which  you  call  the  monkey's  face,  out  of  one  of  which, 
you  know,  the  young  cocoa-nut  tree  would  burst  forth. 
And  when  he  has  got  to  the  eye-holes,  he  hammers 
through  one  of  them  with  the  point  of  his  heavy  claw. 

So  far,  so  good  ;  but  how  is  our  friend  to  get  the  meat 
out  ?  He  cannot  put  his  claw  in.  He  has  no  proboscis 
like  a  butterfty  to  insert  and  suck  with.  He  is  as  far 
off  from  his  dinner  as  the  fox  was  when  the  stork  offered 
him  a  feast  in  a  long-necked  jar.  What  then  do  you 
think  he  does  ?  He  turns  himself  round,  he  puts  in  a 
pair  of  his  hind  pincers,  which  are  very  thin,  and  with 
them  scoops  the  meat  out  of  the  cocoa-nut,  and  so  puts 
his  dinner  into  his  mouth  with  his  hind  feet.  And  even 
the  cocoa-imt  husk  he  does  not  waste ;  for  he  lives  in 


OOBAL  AMD   OOliAL  BUILDERS.  209 

deep  burrows  which  he  makes  like  a  rabbit,  and  being 
a  luxurious  crab,  and  liking  to  sleep  soft  in  spite  of  his 
hard  shell,  he  lines  them  with  a  quantity  of  cocoa-nut 
fibre,  picked  out  clean  and  fine,  just  as  if  he  was  going 
to  make  cocoa-nut  matting  of  it.  And  being  also  a  clean 
crab,  as  I  hope  you  are  a  clean  little  boy,  he  goes  down 
to  the  sea  every  night  to  have  his  bath  and  moisten  his 
gills,  and  so  lives  happy  all  his  days,  and  gets  so  fat  in 
his  old  age  that  he  carries  about  his  body  nearly  a  quart 
of  pure  oil. 

That  is  the  history  of  the  cocoa-nut  crab.  And  if  any 
one  tells  me  that  that  crab  acts  only  on  what  is  called 
"  instinct,"  and  does  not  think  and  reason,  just  as  you 
and  I  think  and  reason,  though  of  course  not  in  words  as 
you  and  I  do,  then  I  shall  be  inclined  to  say  that  that 
person  does  not  think  or  reason  either. 


COEAL  AND   COEAL  BUILDEES. 


PART  III. 

were  there  many  coral-reefs  in  Britain  in  old 
times? 

Yes,  many  and  many,  again  and  again,  some  whole 
ages  older  than  this,  a  bit  of  which  you  see,  and  some 
again  whole  ages  newer.  But  see,  then  judge  for  your- 
self. Look,  at  this  geological  map.  Wherever  you  see 
a  bit  of  blue,  which  is  the  mark  for  limestone,  you  may 
say,  "  There  is  a  bit  of  old  coral-reef  rising  up  to  the 
surface."  But  because  I  will  not  puzzle  your  little  head 
with  too  many  things  at  once,  you  shall  look  at  one  set  of 
coral-reefe  which  are  far  newer  than  this  bit  of  Dudley 
limestone,  and  which  are  the  largest,  I  suppose,  that  ever 
were  in  this  country;  or,  at  least,  there  is  more  of  them 
left  than  of  any  others. 

Look  first  at  Ireland.  You  see  that  almost  all  the 
middle  of  Ireland  is  coloured  blue.  It  is  one  great  sheet 
of  old  coral-reef  and  coral-mud,  which  is  now  called  the 


CORAL  AND  CORAL  BUILDERS.  871 

carboniferous  limestone.  You  see  red  and  purple  patches 
rising  out  of  it,  like  islands — and  islands  I  suppose  they 
were,  of  hard  and  ancient  rock,  standing  up  in  the 
middle  of  the  coral  sea. 

But  look  again,  and  you  will  see  that  along  the  west 
coast  of  Ireland,  except  in  a  very  few  places,  like  Galway 
Bay,  the  blue  limestone  does  not  come  down  to  the  sea ; 
the  shore  is  coloured  purple  and  brown,  and  those 
colours  mark  the  ancient  rocks  and  high  mountains  of 
Mayo  and  Galway  and  Kerry,  which  stand  as  barriers  to 
keep  the  raging  surf  of  the  Atlantic  from  bursting  inland 
and  beating  away,  as  it  surely  would  in  course  of  time, 
the  low  flat  limestone  plain  of  the  middle  of  Ireland. 

But  the  same  coral-reefs  once  stretched  out  far  to  the 
westward  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean  ;  and  you  may  see  the 
proof  upon  that  map.  For  in  the  western  bays,  in  Clew 
Bay  with  its  hundred  islands,  and  Galway  Bay  with 
its  Isles  of  Arran,  and  beautiful  Kenmare  and  beautiful 
Bantry,  you  see  little  blue  spots,  which  are  low  limestone 
islands,  standing  in  the  sea,  overhung  by  mountains  far 
aloft.  You  have  often  heard  of  those  islands  in  Kemnare 
Bay  talked  of,  and  how  some  whom  you  know  go  to  fish 
round  them  by  night  for  turbot  and  conger ;  and  when 
you  hear  them  spoken  of  again,  you  must  recollect  that 
they  are  the  last  fragments  of  a  great  fringing  coral-reef, 
which  will  in  a  few  thousand  years  follow  the  fate  of  the 
rest,  and  be  eaten  up  by  the  waves,  while  the  mountains 
of  hard  rock  stand  round  them  still  unchanged. 

Now  look  at  England,  and  there  you  will  see  patchel 


•272  TINY   WORLD. 

at  -least  of  a  great  coral-reef  which  was  forming  at  the 
same  time  as  that  Irish  one,  and  on  which  perhaps  some 
of  your  schoolfellows  have  often  stood.  You  have  heard 
of  St.  Vincent's  Rocks  at  Bristol,  and  the  marble  cliffs, 
250  feet  in  height,  covered  in  part  with  rich  wood  and 
rare  flowers,  and  the  Avon  running  through  the  narrow 
gorge,  and  the  stately  ships  sailing  far  below  your  feet 
from  Bristol  to  the  Severn  Sea.  And  you  may  see,  for 
here  they  are,  corals  from  St.  Vincent's  Rocks,  cut  and 
polished,  showing  too,  that  they  also,  like  the  Dudley 
limestone,  are  made  up  of  corals  and  of  coral  mud. 

Now,  whenever  you  stand  upon  St.  Vincent's  Rocks,  as 


CORAL    STONE. 


I  dare  say  you  often  will,  recollect  where  you  stand,  and 
use  your  fancy,  to  paint  for  yourself  a  picture  as  strange 
as  it  is  true.  Fancy  that  those  rocks  are  what  they  once 
were,  a  coral-reef  close  to  the  surface  of  a  shallow  sea. 
Fancy  that  there  is  no  gorge  of  the  Avon,  no  wide 
Severn  Sea — for  those  were  eaten  out  by  water  ages  and 
ages  afterwards.  But  picture  to  yourself  the  coral  sea 
reaching  away  to  the  north,  to  the  foot  of  the  Welsh 
mouatains  ;  and  then  fancy  yourself,  if  you  will,  in  a 


CORAL   AND   CORAL  BUILDERS.  278 

canoe,  paddling  up  through  the  coral-reefs,  north  and 
still  north,  up  the  valley  down  which  the  Severn  now 
flows,  up  through  what  is  now  Worcestershire,  then  up 
through  Staffordshire,  then  through  Derbyshire,  into 
Yorkshire,  and  so  on  through  Durham  and  Northumber- 
land, till  you  find  yourself  stopped  by  the  Ettrick  Hills  in 
Scotland ;  while  all  to  the  westward  of  you,  where  is 
now  the  greater  part  of  England,  was  open  sea. 

You  may  say,  if  you  know  anything  of  the  geography 
of  England,  "  Impossible  1  That  would  be  to  paddle  over 
the  tops  of  high  mountains ;  over  the  top  of  the  Peak  in 
Derbyshire,  over  the  top  of  High  Craven  and  Whernside 
and  Pen-y-gent  and  Cross  Fell,  and  to  paddle  over  the 
Cheviot  Hills,  which  part  England  and  Scotland." 

I  know  it,  my  child,  I  know  it.  But  so  it  was  once  on 
a  time.  The  high  limestone  mountains  which  part  Lan- 
cashire and  Yorkshire — the  very  chine  and  backbone  of 
England — were  once  coral-reefs  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 
They  are  all  made  up  of  the  carboniferous  limestone,  so 
called,  because  it  carries  the  coal ;  the  coal-fields  usually 
lie  upon  it.  It  may  be  impossible  in  your  eyes ;  but 
remember  always  that  nothing  is  impossible  with  God. 

But  you  said  that  the  coal  was  made  from  plants  and 
trees,  and  did  plants  and  trees  grow  on  this  coral-reef? 

That  I  cannot  say.  Trees  may  have  grown  on  the  dry 
parts  of  the  reef,  as  cocoa-nuts  grow  now  in  the  Pacific. 
But  the  coal  was  not  laid  down  upon  it  till  long  after- 
wards, when  it  had  gone  through  many  and  strange 
changes.  For  all  through  the  chine  of  England,  and  in  a 

* 


274  TINT  WORLD. 

part  of  Ireland  too,  there  Ii6s  upon  the  top  of -the  lime 
stone  a  hard  gritty  rock,  in  some  places  three  thousand 
feet  thick,  which  is  commonly  called  "  the  mill-stone 
grit."  And  above  that,  again,  the  coal  begins. 

Now  to  make  that  3,000  feet  of  hard  rock,  what  must 
have  happened  ?  The  sea-bottom  must  have  sunk,  slowly 
no  doubt,  carrying  the  coral-reefs  down  with  it,  8,000 
feet  at  least.  And  meanwhile  sand  and  mud,  made  from 
the  wearing  away  of  the  old  lands  in  the  North,  must 
have  settled  down  upon  it.  I  say  from  the  North — for 
there  are  no  fossils,  as  far  as  I  know,  or  sign  of  life,  in 
these  rocks  of  mill-stone  grit ;  and  therefore  it  is  reason- 
able to  suppose  that  they  were  brought  from  a  cold 
current  at  the  Pole,  too  cold  to  allow  sea-beasts  to  live, — 
quite  cold  enough,  certainly,  to  kill  the  coral  insects,  who 
could  only  thrive  in  warm  water  coming  from  the  South. 

Then,  to  go  on  with  my  story,  upon  the  top  of  these 
mill-stone  grits  came  sand  and  mud,  and  peat,  and  trees, 
and  plants,  washed  out  to  sea,  as  far  as  we  can  guess, 
from  the  mouths  of  vast  rivers  flowing  from  the  West, 
rivers  as  vast  as  the  Amazon,  the  Mississippi,  or  the 
Orinoco  are  now;  and  so  in  long  ages,  upon  the  top  of 
the  limestone  and  upon  the  top  of  the  mill- stone  grit, 
were  laid  down  these  beds  of  coal  which  you  see  burnt 
now  in  every  fire. 

But  how  did  the  coral-reefs  rise  till  they  became  cliffs 
at  Bristol  and  mountains  in  Yorkshire  ? 

The  earthquake  steam,  I  suppose,  raised  them.  One 
earthquake  indeed,  or  series  of  earthquakes,  there  was, 


fORAL  AND  CORAL  BUILDEES.  275 

funning  along  between  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire,  which 
made  that  vast  crack  and  upheaval  in  the  rocks,  the 
Craven  Fault,  running,  I  believe,  for  more  than  a 
hundred  miles,  and  lifting  the  rocks  in  some  places  a 
thousand  feet.  That  earthquake  helped  to  make  the 
high  hills  which  overhang  Manchester  and  Preston 
and  all  the  manufacturing  county  of  Lancashire.  That 
earthquake  helped  to  make  the  perpendicular  cliff  at 
Malham  Cove,  and  many  another  beautiful  bit  of  scenery. 
And  that  and  other  earthquakes,  by  heating  the  rocks 
from  the  fires  below,  may  have  helped  to  change  them 
from  soft  coral  into  hard  crystalline  marble  as  you  see 
them  now,  just  as  volcanic  heat  has  hardened  and 
purified  the  beautiful  white  marbles  of  Pentelicus  and 
Pares  in  Greece,  and  Carrara  in  Italy,  from  which 
statues  are  carved  unto  this  day. 

Or  the  same  earthquakes  may  have  heated  and 
hardened  the  limestones  simply  by  grinding  and  squeezing 
them ;  or  they  may  have  been  heated  and  hardened  in  the 
course  of  long  ages  simply  by  the  weight  of  the  thou- 
sands of  ^eet  of  other  rock  which  lay  upon  them.  For 
pressure,  you  must  remember,  always  produces  heat. 

When  you  strike  flint  and  steel  together,  the  pressure 
of  the  blow  not  only  makes  bits  of  steel  fly  off,  but  makes 
them  fly  off  in  red-hot  sparks.  When  you  hammer  a 
piece  of  iron  with  a  hammer,  you  will  soon  find  it  get 
quite  warm.  When  you  squeeze  the  air  together  in  your 
popgun,  you  actually  make  the  air  inside  warmer,  till  the 
pellet  flies  out,  and  the  air  expands  and  cools  again, 


276  TINY   WOULD. 

Nay,  I  believe  you  cannot  hold  up  a  stone  on  the  palm  of 
your  hand,  without  that  stone  after  a  while  warming  your 
hand,  because  it  presses  against  you  in  trying  to  fall,  and 
you  press  against  it  in  trying  to  hold  it  up.  And 
recollect  above  all  the  great  and  beautiful  example  of  that 
law  which  you  were  lucky  enough  to  see  on  the  night  of 
the  14th  of  November,  1867,  how  those  falling  stars  were 
coming  out  of  boundless  space,  colder  than  any  ice  on 
earth,  and  yet,  simply  by  pressing  against  the  air  above 
our  heads,  they  had  their  motion  turned  into  heat, 
till  they  burned  themselves  up  into  trains  of  fiery  dust. 

So  remember  that  wherever  you  have  pressure  you 
have  heat,  and  that  the  pressure  of  the  upper  rocks  upon 
the  lower  is  quite  enough,  some  think,  to  account  for  the 
older  and  lower  rocks  being  harder  than  the  upper  and 
newer  ones. 

But  why  should  the  lower  rocks  be  older  and  the  upper 
ones  newer  ?  You  told  me  just  now  that  the  high 
mountains  in  Wales  were  ages  older  than  Windsor  Forest 
upon  which  we  stand  :  but  yet  how  much  lower  we  are 
here  than  if  we  were  on  a  Welsh  mountain  I 

Ah,  my  dear  child,  of  course  that  puzzles  you,  and  I 
am  afraid  it  must  puzzle  you  still  till  we  have  another 
talk  ;  or  rather  it  seems  to  me  that  the  best  way  to 
explain  that  puzzle  to  you  would  be  for  you  and  me  to  go 
*  railroad  journey  into  Wales,  and  look  into  the  matter 
for  ourselves  ;  and  from  here  to  Wales  we  will  go,  either 
in  fancy  or  on  a  real  railroad,  before  we  have  anothei 
talk  about  these  things 


CORAL  AND  CORAL  BUILDEKS.  2 (  I 

Xow  it  is  time  to  stop.  Is  there  anything  more  you 
w«nt  to  know  ?  for  you  look  as  if  something  was  puz- 
zling you  still. 

Were  there  any  men  in  the  world  while  all  this  was 
going  on  ? 

I  think  not.  We  have  no  proof  that  there  were  not, 
but  also  we  have  no  proof  that  there  were  ;  the  cave-men, 
of  whom  I  told  you,  lived  many  ages  after  the  coal  was 
covered  up.  You  seem  to  be  sorry  that  there  were  nc 
men  in  the  world  then. 

Because  it  seems  a  pity  that  there  was  no  one  to  see 
those  beautiful  coral-reefs  and  coral-forests. 

No  one  to  see  them,  my  child  ?  Who  told  you  that  ? 
Who  told  you  there  are  not  and  never  have  been  any 
rational  beings  in  this  vast  universe,  save  certain  weak, 
ignorant,  short-sighted  creatures  shaped  like  you  and  me  ? 

But  even  if  it  were  so,  and  no  created  eye  had  ever 
beheld  those  ancient  wonders,  and  no  created  heart  ever 
enjoyed  them,  is  there  not  One  Uncreated  who  has  seen 
them  and  enjoyed  them  from  the  beginning  ?  Were  not 
these  creatures  enjoying  themselves  each  after  their  kind? 
And  was  there  not  a  Father  in  heaven  who  was  enjoying 
their  enjoyment,  and  enjoying  too  their  beauty,  which 
He  had  formed  according  to  the  ideas  of  His  Eternal 
Mind  ?  Recollect  that  this  world  was  not  made  for  man 
alone  ;  but  that  man,  and  this  world,  and  the  whole 
universe  were  made  for  God  ;  for  He  created  all  things, 
and  for  His  pleasure  they  are,  and  were  created* 


NATURE    AND    HER    TOOLS. 


NATUBE  AND  HEE  TOOLS. 


DURING  the  recent  past,  we  have  had  gigantic  build- 
ings devoted  to  the  display  of  a  variety  of  machines 
admirably  designed  to  dimmish  human  toil ;  and  an 
infinite  diversity  of  tools  and  implements,  more  or  less 
adapted  to  facilitate  the  labour  of  the  mechanic. 

It  cannot  but  be  interesting  to  compare  with  these  the 
mechanical  contrivances  of  nature,  which  far  exceed  them 
in  ingenuity  and  completeness. 

We  will  begin  with  some  of  the  simplest  illustrations  of 
these. 

One  of  the  most  useful  implements  of  the  artisan  is  the 
.sv/ir,  with  which  he  is  enabled  to  cut  in  pieces  the  hardest 
timber  or  stone. 

The  principle  upon  which  the  saw  is  constructed  is 
familiar  to  every  one,  but  in  order  the  better  to  under- 
stand the  difference  between  the  saws  of  nature  and 
those  of  art,  it  may  be  as  well  to  remind  the  reader  what 
that  principle  is  :  saws  of  human  manufacture  are  made 


282  TINY   WORLD. 

of  the  hardest  steel,  their  cutting  edge  is  divided  into 
sharp  teeth  pointing  in  the  same  direction,  by  means  of 
which  the  fibres  of  the  wood  are  torn  into  minute  pieces, 
and  thus  solid  timber  is  gradually  worn  through. 

The  saw  made  use  of  by  the  human  artisan  is  but  a 
bungling  contrivance  when  compared  with  those  employed 
in  the  economy  of  nature. 

The  saw-fly,  one  of  a  remarkable  race  of  insects,  as 
a  means  of  preserving  its  eggs  from  destruction,  and  of 
providing  a  proper  supply  of  food  for  the  young  to  which 
they  give  birth,  is  instructed  to  deposit  its  eggs  in  the 
leaves  or  tender  shoots  of  the  growing  branches  of  trees. 
To  enable  it  to  effect  this,  the  female  saw-fly  is  provided 
with  a  very  remarkable  apparatus,  which  consists  of  two 
saws,  placed  back  to  back,  and  so  arranged  that  they  can 
alternately  be  pushed  forward  and  backward.  One  only 
of  these  saws  is  first  driven  forward,  and,  while  it  is 
retracted,  its  fellow  is  pushed  out,  and  this  is  continued 
until  an  aperture  of  sufficient  size  has  been  made. 

These  saws,  however,  are  not  only  furnished  with 
teeth  at  their  edge,  but  have  smaller  ones  distributed 
over  their  whole  surface,  so  that  they  perform  the  office 
of  files  as  well  as  saws,  and  not  only  cut  a  slit  in  the 
wood,  but  enlarge  the  opening  until  it  is  sufficiently 
capacious  to  receive  the  eggs  into  its  interior.  To  pro- 
tect this  delicate  instrument  when  not  in  use,  it  is 
enclosed  in  a  case  formed  by  two  hinged  flaps,  one  oil 
each  side  of  the  saw. 
The  eggs,  deposited  with  so  much  skill,  are  not  left  to 


NATURE  AND  HER  TOOLS.  288 

chance.  Immediately  after  the  puncture  has  been  made, 
the  part  of  the  stalk  around  it  begins  to  swell,  and  an 
excrescence  is  formed,  such  as  we  frequently  see  on  the 
stem  of  a  rose-tree,  or  the  leaf  of  a  willow.  In  a  few 
days  the  eggs  produce  young  grubs,  which,  after  under- 
going a  change  into  a  chrysalis  state,  finally  assume  the 
form  of  their  parent,  a  four- winged  fly. 

It  is  related  of  the  female  of  one  kind  of  saw-fly,  that 


LARVA    OF    SAW-FLY. 


she  will  remain  on  the  leaf  within  which  she  has  deposited 
her  eggs  till  they  are  hatched,  that  she  feeds  them  care- 
fully, and  resting  with  her  wings  stretched  over  them, 
protects  them  from  the  heat  of  the  sun,  or  from  the 
attacks  of  enemies  ;  and  that  she  continues  to  do  so 
for  several  weeks,  until  her  young  ones  no  longer  require 
Lor  maternal  care. 


284  TINY  WORLD. 

A  still  more  wonderful  piece  of  instinct  is  exhibited  by 
the  ichneumons  or  cuckoo-flies,  a  race  of  insects  to  whom 
is  entrusted  an  important  department  in  the  police  oi 
nature. 

The  common  butterfly  will  lay,  perhaps,  500  eggs  in 
the  course  of  a  single  summer;  and,  although  butterflies 
themselves  are  not  generally  regarded  as  dangerous 
enemies,  a  very  little  reflection  will  show,  that  if  not 
rigidly  watched  over  they  would  become  exceedingly 
formidable.  The  butterfly,  be  it  remembered,  produces 
as  its  progeny,  not  butterflies  like  the  parent  animal,  but 
active,  hungry  caterpillars,  with  ravenous  appetites  and 
horny  jaws. 

If,  therefore,  a  garden  was,  at  any  time  during  a 
single  season,  visited  by  500  of  these  pretty  flutterers, 
which  is  by  no  means  improbable,  the  consequence 
would  be  a  progeny  of  25,000  caterpillars  ;  a  number 
obviously  quite  sufficient  to  cause  serious  injury  to  the 
garden.  If  each  of  these  in  its  turn  was  to  lay  500  eggs, 
it  is  evident  that  the  country  would  soon  be  rendered 
uninhabitable  by  the  overwhelming  increase  of  butter- 
flies. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  equally  obvious  that  if  the 
supply  of  caterpillars  was  to  be  diminished  to  any  con- 
siderable extent,  vast  numbers  of  birds  and  other  animals 
would  be  deprived  of  food.  The  consequences  under 
either  supposition  would  be  equally  detrimental  to  tha 
harmony  of  Nature.  The  agents  employed  by  the 
Creator  to  insure  an  adequate  supply  of  caterpillars,  and, 


NATURE  AND  HER  TOOLS.  285 

at  the  same  time,  to  prevent  a  too  rapid  multiplication  of 
butterflies,  are  the  little  ichneumons  above  alluded  to. 

The  apparatus  employed  for  this  purpose  resembles  an 
<nrl,  the  end  of  which  is  flattened  and  sharp.  By  the 
assistance  of  this  the  cuckoo-fly  is  enabled  to  deposit  her 
eggs  in  the  back  of  the  caterpillar,  which,  unconscious  of 
its  injury,  feeds  and  enjoys  its  life,  regardless  of  the 


SIUEX    GIG  AS. 


brood  of  young  ichneumons  feeding  upon  the  very  nutri- 
ment on  which  it  is  dependent  for  its  existence.  It  lives 
on  apparently  unharmed,  but  when  the  time  arrives  for 
undergoing  its  metamorphosis,  too  feeble  to  make  the 
usual  change  into  a  chrysalis,  it  dies. 

There  is  one  insect,  the  Slrex  G'ujas,  which  may  fairly  be 
called  a  worker  in  metals.  This  insect  is  furnished  with 
drills  by  which  it  can  drill  through  lead.  It  is  related 


286  TINY    WORLD. 

that  it  actually  drilled  through  the'  balls  in  the  cartridges 
of  the  French  troops  in  the  Crimea. 

Shears  and  scissors  it  might  naturally  be  supposed 
would  require  human  hands  to  guide  them,  but  long 
before  mankind  possessed  such  useful  instruments,  they 
were  busily  at  work  in  the  depths  of  the  sea,  and  that 
with  as  unerring  fatality  as  the  fabled  shears  of  Atropos. 

The  rocks  and  grottoes  of  the  ocean  are  as  richly 
carpeted  with  a  verdure  of  their  own,  as  our  hills  and 
valleys.  Seaweeds  and  corallines,  exquisite  in  colour  and 
-beautiful  in  form,  clothe  them  in  rich  profusion.  But 
though  away  from  the  view  of  man  or  of  those  animals 
with  whom  he  is  more  familiar,  there  are  creatures  formed 
to  revel  in  this  luxuriant  growth,  and  to  whom  it  affords 
a  continual  banquet.  The  Tritonea,  a  kind  of  marine 
slug,  is  one  of  these,  and  it  is  furnished  with  scissors 
to  clip  off  the  living  flowers  which  serve  it  for  suste- 
nance. 

The  mouth  of  the  Triton  is  of  a  most  singular  con- 
struction. Enclosed  within  two  fleshy  lips  which  form 
the  external  part  of  this  organ,  lie  two  flat  horny  jaws, 
united  at  one  end  by  an  elastic  joint ;  a  strong  muscle 
brings  together  the  sharp  jaws,  which  pass  one  over  the 
other  like  the  blades  of  shears,  and  are  enclosed  again 
by  the  spring  which  connects  them.  Within  this  destruc- 
tive mouth  is  a  tongue  covered  with  sharp  hooks,  all  bent 
ill  the  direction  of  the  throat,  to  which  they  convey  the 
ample  supply  of  food  prepared  by  the  jaws. 

One  of  the  most  useful  of  the  tools  of  the  carpenter 


NATURE  AND  HER  TOOLS.  287 

is  a  chisel>  and  efficiently  enough  it  does  its  work,  so 
long  as  it  can  be  kept  sharp ;  but  even  with  the  utmost 
caro  it  is  apt  to  become  dull  and  blunted.  Could  some 
ingenious  mechanician  produce  a  Bet  of  these  useful 
instruments,  that  would  always  retain  a  sharp  cutting 
edge,  and  never  need  grinding,  they  would  certainly  be 
classed  among  the  most  ingenious  and  useful  inven- 
tions. 

Now  in  the  animal  creation  such  sets  of  tools  are 
constantly  at  work,  in  the  mouth  of  every  rat  and  mouse 
and  squirrel.  Hour  after  hour  will  a  rat  continue  its 
patient  gnawing  at  the  hardest  board  ;  day  after  day,  and 
week  after  week,  will  it  pursue  the  same  employment; 
und  yet  its  teeth  never  appear  to  be  worn  in  the  least. 
We  say  appear,  because  this  constant  gnawing  does  wear 
away  even  the  teeth  of  a  rat,  but  provision  has  been 
made  for  this  constant  attrition.  The  teeth  of  the 
Rodents,  or  gnawing  animals,  never  cease  growing.  Fresh 
matter  is  added  from  behind  to  the  tooth,  as  it  is  gradually 
pushed  up  in  front,  and  thus  no  obvious  diminution  of 
size  takes  place. 

Still  it  would  scorn  impossible  but  that  the  sharp  edge 
should  become  blunted,  eveu  though  the  tooth  should 
retain  its  proper  length.  So  it  would  be,  indeed,  were 
the  tooth  of  the  same  material  throughout.  But  these 
gnawing  teeth  are  formed  of  two  different  substances. 
The  bulk  of  the  tooth  is  of  ivory,  which  of  itself  would 
not  be  hard  enough  for  the  work  that  has  to  be  done 
Its  front  is  therefore  covered  with  a  thin  plate  of  i  aamel, 


288  TINY    WORLD. 

extremely  hard  and  durable,  and  as  this  wears  away 
much  more  slowly  than  the  ivory,  a  sharp  cutting  edge 
is  always  maintained. 

But  in  order  to  estimate  properly  the  efficiency  of  these 
chisels  of  Nature's  contrivance,  we  ought  to  know  what 
amount  of  work  they  are  capable  of  performing,  and  of 
this  the  structures  erected  by  the  beavers  will  give  us 
some  idea. 

These  industrious  creatures  have  long  been  cele- 
brated for  their-  skill  in  erecting  their  dwelling ;  but 
though  our  readers  are  already  acquainted  with  their 
manner  of  building,  it  may  not  be  superfluous  briefly  to 
recount  it. 

The  beavers,  who  always  work  in  companies,  assemble 
together  in  the  months  of  June  and  July  to  establish 
their  settlement.  They  congregate  in  numbers  of  two 
or  three  hundred  on  the  bank  of  some  river,  and  the 
place  of  meeting  is  usually  the  spot  on  which  they  com- 
mence their  operations.  The  object  of  these  united 
labours  is  twofold ;  first,  to  form  a  species  of  pond  in 
which  the  water  may  be  always  retained  at  the  same 
height ;  and  secondly,  to  construct  an  assemblage  of 
secure  dwellings  for  the  whole  colony  of  labourers. 

On  the  bank  of  some  running  stream,  at  a  part  where 
the  water  is  shallow,  and  shaded  by  poplars  or  over- 
hanging willows,  these  four-footed  engineers  begin  their 
work.  Their  first  object  is  to  select  some  large  tree 
conveniently  overhanging  the  river,  and,  seating  them- 
selves around  it  in  sufficient  number,  they  begin  to  cut  it 


NATUKE    ANI>   HER    TOOLS. 


289 


down  with  their  sharp  chisel-like  teeth,  enjoying  mean- 
while the  morsels  of  fresh  wood  and  tender  bark,  which 
are  their  favourite  food. 

The  tree,  although  often  as  thick  as  a  man's  body,  is 
soon  cut  down  by  their  joint  efforts  ;  it  falls  across  the 
stream,  and  forms  the  principal  beam  in  their  building. 
They  cut  the  branches  from  the  top  to  make  it  lie  evenly, 


BEAVER   AT   WORK. 

while  others  fell  trees  of  smaller  girth,  and  divide  them 
into  stakes  of  a  proper  length.  These  they  convey  to 
the  edge  of  the  river,  and  then  bring  them  by  water  to 
their  building-place.  There  they  have  to  begins/the  task 
of  pile-driving,  without  the  mechanical  contrivances  to 
which  human  engineers  have  recourse. 

With  their  ever-ready  teeth  some  of  the  beavers  uplift 
the  stakes  and  drive  them  into  holes,  which  others  of 

u 


290  TINY    WORLD, 

their  party,  plunging  below  the  water,  have  already 
for  their  reception.  Many  rows  ol  these  piles  are  driven, 
and  the  intervening  spaces  filled  up  with  branches,  which 
the  intelligent  creatures  weave  in  between  them.  Others 
go  in  search  of  earth,  which  they  beat  with  their  tails, 
and  temper  with  their  feet  until  it  is  of  a  proper  consis- 
tence to  fill  up  all  the  crevices  in  their  building. 

The  dam  erected  in  this  manner  across  the  river  is 
a  construction  of  no  small  labour,  being  often  from  eighty 
to  one  hundred  feet  long,  and  from  eight  to  ten  feet  wide. 
It  is  formed  of  numerous  piles  of  equal  height,  planted 
close  together.  These  piles,  which  are  perpendicular  on 
the  outer  side  of  the  dam,  are  placed  in  a  sloping  direction 
on  the  inner  side ;  thus  giving  all  the  solidity  necessary 
for  supporting  the  weight  of  the  water,  and  for  preventing 
its  overthrow. 

On  this  dam,  the  top  of  which  is  flat  and  smooth,  the 
beaver  village  is  erected,  the  huts  of  which  it  consists 
are  sometimes  ten  feet  in  diameter,  having  walls  two  feet 
in  thickness,  which  are  usually  built  to  the  height  of 
a  few  feet,  and  then  covered  in  by  a  vaulted  roof.  Some- 
times a  second,  or  even  a  third,  storey  is  added. 

These  huts  have  each  two  apertures,  one  of  which 
gives  admission  from  the  general  causeway,  and  the  other 
a  window  looking  upon  their  pond.  It  sometimes  happens 
that  the  water  is  frozen  over  below  the  level  of  their 
window,  and  their  entrance  to  the  bathing-place  pre- 
cluded. In  this  case,  they  make  another  opening  beneath 
the  ice;  for  access  to  the  water  is  essential  to  their 


NATURE  AND  HEB  TOOLS.  291 

well-being.  The  houses  are  neatly  plastered  throughout 
with  mortar,  which  they  beat  and  temper  with  their  feet. 
Here  another  remarkably  well-adapted  tool  comes  into 
requisition.  To  assist  them  in  their  work,  they  have 
been  provided  with  a  most  excellent  trowel ;  the  tail  of  the 
beaver  is  flat,  and  covered  with  scales  ;  with  this  they 
plaster  the  walls  of  their  houses,  to  render  them  quite 
impervious  to  rain,  and  effect  it  with  such  mason-like 
skill,  that  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  human  hands  have 
not  been  employed  in  the  work. 

Each  hut  serves  for  the  abode  of  several  pairs  of 
beavers ;  and  close  to  each  dwelling  is  a  store-house  for 
the  food  of  the  family.  This  consists  of  stems  and 
branches  of  trees  cut  into  short  lengths.  The  beavers 
have  only  recourse  to  this  stock  when  fresh  green  wood, 
their  favourite  aliment,  cannot  be  procured. 

Thus  furnished  with  commodious  habitations  and  a 
plentiful  supply  of  provisions,  the  beavers  pass  a  happy 
and  a  busy  life.  Great  care  is  taken  to  keep  their  village 
and  the  dam  upon  which  it  is  built,  in  good  repair,  and 
general  harmony  prevails. 

Part  of  their  time  is  passed  in  the  water,  and  for  this 
they  have  been  well  fitted  by  nature.  Their  hinder  feet, 
which  serve  as  oars  to  row  them  along  in  the  water, 
are  webbed,  and  their  broad  flat  tails  serve  as  a  rudder 
to  direct  their  course,  and  thus  these  singular  quadrupeds 
are  enabled  to  occupy  a  situation  in  which  an  animal 
without  such  various  adaptations  would  not  be  able  to 
exist. 


292  TINY    WORLD. 

To  creatures  so  circumstanced  the  possession  of  chisel- 
like  teeth,  which  no  wear  can  blunt,  is  obviously  indis- 
pensable ;  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  any 
contrivance  more  perfect  than  that  adopted  to  secure  the 
lasting  efficiency  of  the  inimitable  tools  with  which  they 
are  f uruiukxL 


NATURE  AND  WHAT  IS  SMALL 


NATUKE,  AND  WHAT  IS  SMALL. 


AN  eminent  naturalist  observes  that  the  telescope 
teaches  us  that  every  world  is  an  atom,  and  the 
microscope  that  every  atom  is  a  world. 

What  does  small  mean  in  nature  ? 

The  question  was  suggested  to  the  mind  of  a  German 
naturalist  while  investigating  into  the  inconceivable 
multitudes  of  microscopical  organic  forms  entering  into 
the  constitution  of  the  chalk  formation. 

This  geological  system  extends  over  a  vast  portion  of 
the  globe ;  and  modern  observation  has  proved  that, 
probably  to  the  amount  of  fully  one-half,  it  consists  of  the 
remains  of  animals  which  were  deposited  at  the  bottom 
of  a  primeval  ocean.  Many  of  the  remains  are  those  of 
shell-fish,  sea-urchins,  zoophytes,  and  other  animals ;  but 
by  much  the  largest  proportion  of  the  formation  is  com- 
posed of  the  shells  of  minute  animalculae,  only  discernible 
by  the  microscope.  The  mind  is  overwhelmed  by  the 
idea"  of  the  myriads  of  animated  atoms  which  have  con- 


296 


TINY    WORLD. 


tributed  by  their  remains  to  build  up  masses  of  chalk, 
constituting  mountain  chains  in  Europe,  Asia,  Africa, 
and  America. 

The  purer  forms  of  common  white  chalk  exhibit,  under 
the   microscope,  an   aggregation    of   shells,  corals,  and 


THE   OKGANISMS   WHICH    FORM    COMMON    CHALK— KNOWN   AS 
FOKAMINIFERA,    GKEATLY    MAGNIFIED. 

other  structure's,  of  which  a  million  individuals  are  con- 
tained in  a  cubic  ineh  of  the  substance.  A  hundred 
thousand  of  these  minute  shells  are  computed  to  enter 
into  the  constitution  of  the  chalk  employed  in  enamelling 
an  ordinary  visiting  card. 


NATURE,    AND   WHAT   IS   SMALl  297 

They  are  chiefly  the  shells  of  a  group  of  animals,  of 
extremely  simple  organization,  named  Foraminifera. 
The  body  of  the  animal  consists  of  little  else  than  an 
atom  of  thin  transparent  glair  or  jelly.  It  begins  life  by 
constructing  a  shell  of  one  chamber  ;  but  in  proportion 
as  the  size  of  the  body  exceeds  that  of  its  tiny  dwelling, 
it  adds  one  chamber  after  another,  corresponding  to  its 
growing  dimensions,  till  it  finally  settles  in  its  mature 
state  in  the  outermost  and  roomiest  cavity  of  the  series. 

The  nummulite  characterizing  immense  beds  of  cal- 
careous rock  in  the  Alps  and  Pyrenees,  and  also  the  lime- 
atone  constituting  the  foundation  of  the  Great  Pyramid  of 
Egypt,  and  forming  the  principal  mass  of  the  huge  body 
of  the  Sphinx,  is  one  of  the  largest  species  of  the  order. 
It  derives  its  name  from  its  similarity  to  a  coin ;  and  the 
legend  has  lingered  in  Egypt  since  the  time  of  Strabo, 
that  the  numniulites  of  the  pyramids,  familiar  to  all 
travellers  in  that  country,  are  the  lentils  upon  which  the 
builders  fed  while  rearing  those  imperishable  edifices,  and 
which,  in  the  progress  of  time,  have  been  converted  into 
stone. 

But  in  general  the  shells  of  the  foraminifera  are  of 
excessive  minuteness. 

The  rocks  upon  which  the  city  of  Paris  rests  are  com' 
posed  almost  wholly  of  these  shells,  which  are  packed 
together  as  closely  as  the  grains  in  a  heap  of  turnip-seed ; 
and  the  houses  of  the  capital  are  built  of  the  same  curious 
organism. 

Existing  sea-bottoms  appear  to  be  covered  to  unknown 


298 


TINY   WORLD. 


depths  by  recent  species  of  foraminifera.  When  the 
officers  of  the  ship  Dolphin  were  sounding  the  bed  of  the 
Atlantic  for  the  electric  telegraph,  the  matter  brought  up 
by  the  lead  from  a  depth  of  two  thousand  fathoms  in 
mid-ocean  was  found  to  be  composed  entirely  of  the  shells 
of  these  animalcule,  without  any  admixture  of  unorgan- 
ized or  merely  earthy  substances.  It  was,  therefore, 


MINUTE   ORGANISMS 

Magnified  eighty  times. 

reasonably  expected  that  the  submerged  wire  would  be 
coated  over  with  a  deposit  of  the  shells  of  the  foraminifera, 
and  thus  become  permanently  protected  against  danger 
from  friction  by  oceanic  currents  within  the  space  of  three 
years.  An  ounce  of  sand  obtained  from  the  Caribbean 
Sea  was  estimated  to  contain  the  amazing  number  of 
3,840,000  shells. 

The   German   investigation    of  the    organisms    of  the 
chalk  took  an  illustration  from  the  blasting  of  the  cliff  at 


MATURE,    AND   WHAT   IS   SMALL.  299 

Dover  for  the  railway,  in  1848.  Years  of  labour  were 
expended  in  preparing  shafts  and  galleries,  and  the 
largest  charge  of  gunpowder  ever  employed  was  fired 
by  a  powerful  galvanic  battery.  A  million  of  tons  of  the 
chalk  rock  were  torn  away  in  a  minute,  almost  silently, 
and  a  surface  of  nearly  fifteen  acres  was  covered  twenty 
feet  deep  with  its  fragments. 

"And  with  what,"  says  the  writer,  "did  the  power 
of  the  human  mind  enter  into  this  giant  struggle  ? 
With  the  remains  of  creatures,  a  thousand  of  which 
might  be  annihilated  by  the  pressure  of  a  finger!  We 
wonder,  and  ask  ourselves,  What  does  SMALL  mean  in 
nature?" 

The  Bergmehl,  or  mountain-meal  of  the  north  oi 
Europe,  used  in  Sweden  and  other  countries  as  an  article 
of  food,  was  found  by.  Ehrenberg  to  consist  of  the 
shells  of  minute  animals,  which  had  been  deposited  in 
water  at  a  remote  period,  but  the  exuviae  of  which  still 
retained  sufficient  animal  matter  to  render  them  nutritive 
when  mixed  with  flour.  Till  this  discovery  was  made 
by  the  most  ingenious  of  microscopists,  the  mountain- 
meal  was  considered  to  afford  an  exception  to  the 
universal  fact,  that  the  mineral  kingdom  is  incapable, 
directly,  of  yielding  food  for  animals. 

Another  vast  group  of  minute  organisms  inhabit  the 
debateable  region  between  the  animal  and  the  vegetable 
kingdom.  Zoologists  and  botanists  long  did  battle  for 
possession  of  this  border  territory,  which,  being  often 
taken  and  retaken,  may,  at  length,  be  considered  ta 


300  TINY   WORLD. 

be  finally  established  as  a  province  of  the  kingdom  of 
plants,  the  inhabitants  being  distinguished  by  the  name 
of  the  Diatowacea.  The  diatom  (or  brittle-wort)  is  a 
plant  consisting  of  a  single  cell,  yet  it  represents  the 
fundamental  principle  of  the  most  complex  vegetable 
structures,  and  illustrates  the  uniformity  of  the  plan  of 


MICROSCOPIC    PLANT   LIFE. 


organization  in  the  vegetable  kingdom  ;  for  the  sturdy 
oak,  the  patrician  palm,  and  the  peerless  Wellingtonia  of 
the  Calif ornian  forest  is  each  an  aggregation  of  cells. 

Unlike  the  delicate  calcareous  shells  of  the  animals 
previously  described,  the  coverings  of  these  unicellular 
plants  are  siliceous  and  indestructible.  It  is,  indeed, 


NATURE,    AND   WHAT    IS    SMALL.  801 

only  after  their  separation  from  the  substances  containing 
them,  by  exposure  to  the  action  of  the  strongest  heat  and 
the  fiercest  chemical  acids,  that  they  are  produced  in  all 
their  crystalline  brilliancy  and  purity,  and  are  fit  for  being 
mounted  on  shells  as  microscopic  objects. 

The  cell  multiplies  by  spontaneous  sub-division,  a  pro- 
cess which  proceeds  in  a  geometrical  ratio,  and  often  with 
great  rapidity.  The  progeny  of  a  single  individual,  on 
the  moderate  calculation  that  each  successive  act  o.' 
self-division  takes  place  every  twenty-four  hours,  would 
amount  in  a  month  to  one  thousand  millions  1 

Some  species  inhabit  the  sea,  others  are  found  only  in 
fresh  water.  The  favourite  habitats  of  many  species  are 
the  stones  of  mountain  streams  and  water-falls.  Shallow 
pools,  and  mouths  of  rivers,  roadside  ditches,  water- 
troughs,  and  cisterns,  abound  with  various  species. 
Ehrenberg  has  found  them  alike  in  the  oldest  and  the 
newest  fossiiiferous  rocks.  Darwin  witnessed  them 
drifting  in  clouds  from  the  continent  of  America  to  that 
of  Africa,  and  coming  in  contact  with  the  sails  of  the  ship 
in  which  he  was  a  voyager.  Dr.  Hooker  discovered  them 
in  myriads  in  the  ice  within  the  Antarctic  circle  ;  and  the 
same  observer,  on  examining  the  mud  brought  up  by 
the  lead  on  sounding  a  bank  on  the  flanks  of  Victoria 
Land,  not  less  than  400  miles  long,  and  120  broad,  and 
of  a  depth  which  could  not  be  conjectured,  ascertained 
that  it  was  almost  entirely  composed  of  the  remains  of 
diatoms. 

No  description  can  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the 


802  TINT   WORLD. 

symmetry  and  beauty  displayed  in  the  forms  of  these 
crystalline  atoms.  The  infinitesimally  minute  striations 
and  sculptures  on  the  surface  of  many  species,  task  the 
highest  powers  of  the  optician's  glass. 

Like  the  higher  tribes  of  plants,  the  diatoms  give  off 
oxygen  gas,  under  the  influence  of  the  sun's  light  and 
heat ;  the  result,  doubtless,  of  the  decomposition  of  car- 
bonic acid  gas,  which  all  vegetables  abstract  from  the 
air. 

They  are  thus  rendered  instrumental  in  maintaining 
the  atmosphere  in  a  state  of  purity  and  salubrity  for  the 
respiration  of  animals.  A  still  more  important  function  is 
performed  by  the  lower  tribes  both  of  animals  and  plants. 
Occupying  a  position  on  the  very  verge  of  organized 
being,  they  are  employed  to  prevent  the  'tendency  of 
decomposing  animal  and  vegetablo  matter  to  pass  into 
the  gaseous  state,  *nd  return  to  the  inorganic  world. 

"  These  wakeful  members  of  Nature's  invisible  police," 
to  use  the  words  of  Professor  Owen,  "  are  everywhere 
ready  to  arrest  the  fugitive  organized  particles,  and  turn 
them  back  into  the  ascending  stream  of  life*" 


USE   OF   THE  EYES, 


USE  OF  THE  EYES. 


TJTTHEN  I  was  the  age  of  my  boy  and  girl  readers, 
*  '  there  were  no  such  reading- hooks  as  there  are 
now.  Those  which  we  had  were  few  and  dull,  and  the 
pictures  in  them  ugly  and  mean  ;  while  you  have  your 
choice  of  books  without  number,  clever,  amusing,  and 
pretty,  as  well  as  really  instructive,  on  subjects  which  were 
only  talked  of,  fifty  years  ago,  by  a  few  learned  men,  and 
very  little  understood  even  by  them. 

Ho  if  mere  reading  of  books  would  make  wise  men,  you 
ouyht  to  grow  up  much  wiser  than  us  old  fellows.  But 
mere  reading  of  wise  books  will  not  make  you  wise  men : 
you  must  use  for  yourselves  the  tools  with  which  books 
are  made  wise  ;  and  that  is— your  eyes,  and  ears,  and 
common  sense. 

Now,  among  those  very  stupid  old-fashioned  boys' 
books  was  one  which  taught  me  that ;  and  therefore  I  am 
more  grateful  to  it  than  if  it  had  been  as  full  of  wonderful 
pictures  as  all  the  natural  history  books  you  ever  saw. 


306 


TINY     V  ORLT). 


Its  name  was  "Evenings  id  Home,"  and  in  it  was 
a  story  called  "  Eyes  and  No  Eyes ; "  a  regular  old- 
fashioned,  prim,  sententious  story  ;  and  it  began  thus  : — 

"Well,  Robert,  where  have  you  been  walking  this 
afternoon  ?  "  said  Mr.  Andrews  to  one  of  his  pupils,  at 
the  close  of  a  holiday. 

Oh — Robert  had  been  to  Broom  Heath,  and  round  by 
Camp  Mount,  and  home  through  the  meadows.  But  it 
was  very  dull.  He  hardly  saw  a  single  person.  He  had 
much  rather  have  gone  by  the  turnpike-road. 

Presently  in  comes  Master  William,  the  other  pupil — 
dressed,  I  suppose,  as  wretched  boys  used  to  be  dressed 
forty  years  ago,  in  a  frill  collar,  and  skeleton  monkey- 
jacket,  and  tight  trousers  buttoned  over  it  and  hardly 
coming  down  to  his  ankles,  and  low  shoes  which  always 
came  off  in  sticky  ground  ;  and  terribly  dirty  and  wet  he 
is ;  but  he  never,  he  says,  had  such  a  pleasant  walk  in 
his  life,  and  he  has  brought  home  his  handkerchief  (for 
boys  had  no  pockets  in  those  days  much  bigger  than 
keyholes)  full  of  curiosities. 

He  has  got  a  piece  of  mistletoe,  and  wants  to  know 
what  it  is ;  and  he  has  seen  a  woodpecker,  and  a  wheat- 
ear,  and  gathered  strange  flowers  on  the  heath  ;  and 
hunted  a  pee- wit  because  he  thought  its  wing  was  broken, 
till,  of  course,  it  led  him  into  a  bog,  and  very  wet  he  got. 
But  he  did  not  mind  it,  because  he  fell  in  with  an  old  man 
cutting  turf,  who  told  him  all  about  turf- cutting,  and  gave 
him  a  dead  adder.  And  then  he  went  up  a  hill,  and  saw 
a  grand  prospect;  and  wanted  to  go  again,  and  make  out 


nSE    OF    THE    EYES.  807 

the  geography  of  the  country  from  Gary's  old  county 
maps,  which  were  the  only  maps  in  those  days.  And 
then,  because  the  hill  was  called  Camp  Mount,  he  looked 
for  a  Roman  camp,  and  found  one ;  and  then  he  went 
down  to  the  river,  and  saw  twenty  things  more ;  and  so 
on,  and  so  on%  till  he  had  brought  home  curiosities 
enough,  and  thoughts  enough,  to  last  him  a  week. 

Whereon  Mr.  Andrews,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  very 
sensible  old  gentleman,  tells  him  all  about  his  curiosities. 
And  then  it  comes  out  —  if  you  will  believe  it — that 
Master  William  has  been  over  the  very  same  ground  as 
Master  Robert,  who  saw  nothing  at  all. 

Whereon  Mr.  Andrews  says,  wisely  enough,  in  his 
solemn,  old-fashioned  way — 

"  So  it  is.  One  man  walks  through  the  world  with  his 
eyes  open,  another  with  his  eyes  shut;  and  upon  this 
difference  depends  all  the  superiority  of  knowledge  which 
one  man  acquires  over  another.  I  have  known  sailors 
who  have  been  in  all  the  quarters  of  the  world,  and  could 
tell  you  nothing  but  the  signs  of  the  tippling  houses,  and 
the  price  and  quality  of  the  liquor.  On  the  other  hand, 
Franklin  could  not  cross  the  Channel  without  making 
observations  useful  to  mankind.  While  many  a  vacant, 
thoughtless  youth  is  whirled  through  Europe  without 
gaming  a  single  idea  worth  crossing  the  street  for,  the 
observing  eye  and  inquiring  mind  find  matter  of  im- 
provement and  delight  in  every  ramble.  You  then 
William,  continue  to  use  your  eyes.  And  you,  Robert, 
learn  that  eyes  were  given  to  you  to  use." 


BOS  TINY    WORLD. 

So  said  Mr,  Andrews :  and  so  I  say  to  you. 

Therefore  I  beg  all  good  bjys  and  girls  among  yon  tt 
think  over  this  story,  and  nettle  in  their  own  minda 
whether  they  will  be  Eyes  or  No  Eyes ;  whether  they 
will,  as  they  grow  up,  look,  and  see  for  themselves  what 
happens ;  or  whether  they  will  let  other  people  look  for 
them,  or  pretend  to  look ;  and  dupe  them,  and  lead  them 
about — the  blind  leading  the  blind,  till  both  fall  into  the 
ditch. 

I  say  "  good  boys  and  girls ;  "  not  merely  clever  boys, 
or  prudent  boys ;  because  using  your  eyes  or  not  using 
them  is  a  question  of  doing  right  or  doing  wrong. 

God  has  given  you  eyes,  and  it  is  your  duty  to  God  to 
use  them.  If  your  parents  tried  to  teach  you  your 
lessons  in  the  most  agreeable  way,  by  beautiful  picture- 
books,  would  it  not  be  ungracious,  ungrateful,  and 
altogether  naughty  and  wrong,  to  shut  your  eyes  to  those 
pictures,  and  refuse  to  learn  ? 

And  is  it  not  altogether  naughty  and  wrong  to  refuse  to 
learn  from  your  Father  in  heaven,  the  Great  God  who 
made  all  things,  when  He  offers  to  teach  you  all  day  long 
by  the  most  beautiful  and  most  wonderful  of  all  picture- 
books,  which  is,  simply  all  things  which  you  can  see,  and 
hear,  and  touch,  from  the  suns  and  stars  above  your 
heads,  to  the  mosses  and  insects  at  your  feet  ?  It  is  your 
duty  to  learn  His  lessons :  and  it  is  your  interest  likewise. 
God's  Book,  which  is  the  Universe,  and  the  reading  ol 
God's  Book,  which  is  Science,  can  do  you  nothing  but 
good,  and  teach  you  nothing  but  truth  and  wisdom, 


USE   OF   THE   EYES.  809 

Ooi  did  not  put  this  wondrous  world  about  your  young 
souls  to  tempt  or  to  mislead  tbem.  If  you  ask  Him  for  a 
fish,  He  will  not  give  you  a  serpent.  If  you  ask  Him  foi 
bread,  He  will  not  give  you  a  stone. 

So  use  your  eyea  and  your  intellect,  your  senses  and 
your  brains,  and  learn  what  God  is  trying  to  teach  you 
continually  by  them.  I  do  not  moan  that  you  must  stop 
there,  and  learn  nothing  more  ;  anything  but  that. 

There  are  things  which  neither  your  senses  nor  your 
brains  can  tell  you ;  and  they  are  not  only  more  glorious, 
but  actually  more  true,  and  more  real,  than  any  things 
which  you  can  see  or  touch.  But  you  must  begin  at  the 
beginning  in  order  to  end  at  the  end ;  and  sow  the  seed 
if  you  wish  to  gather  the  fruit. 

God  has  ordained  that  you,  and  every  child  which 
comes  into  the  world,  should  begin  by  learning  something 
of  the  world  about  him  by  his  senses  and  his  brain  ;  and 
the  better  you  learn  what  they  can  teach  you,  the  more 
fit  will  you  be  to  learn  what  they  cannot  teach  you.  The 
more  you  try  now  to  understand  things,  the  more  you 
will  be  able  hereafter  to  understand  men,  and  That  which 
is  above  men.  You  begin  to  find  out  that  truly  Divine 
mystery,  that  you  had  a  mother  on  earth,  simply  by  lying 
soft  and  warm  upon  her  bosom  :  and  so  (as  our  Lord  told 
the  Jews  of  old)  it  is  by  watching  the  common  natural 
things  around  you,  and  considering  $he  lilies  of  the  field, 
how  they  grow,  that  you  will  begin  at  last  tc  learn  that 
fur  Diviner  mystery — that  you  have  a  Father  in  heaven. 

And  so  you  will  be  delivered  (if  you  will)  out  of  the 


BIO  TINT    WORLD. 

tyranny  of  darkness,  and  distrust,  and  fear,  into  God'l 
free  kingdom  of  light,  and  faith,  and  love ;  and  will  be 
safe  from  the  venom  of  that  tree,  which  is  more  deadly 
than  the  fabled  Upas  of  the  East. 

Who  planted  that  tree  I  know  not,  it  was  planted  so 
long  ago :  but  surely  it  is  none  of  God's  planting,  neither 
of  the  Son  of  God :  yet  it  grows  in  all  lands,  and  in  all 
climes,  and  sends  its  hidden  suckers  far  and  wide — even 
(unless  we  be  watchful)  into  your  hearts  and  mine. 

Its  name  is  the  Tree  of  Unreason,  whose  roots  are 
conceit  and  ignorance,  and  its  juices  folly  and  death. 

It  drops  its  venom  into  the  finest  brains,  and  makes 
them  call  sense  nonsense,  and  nonsense  sense ;  faoi 
fiction,  and  fiction  fact. 

It  drops  its  venom  into  the  tenderest  hearts,  alas  I  and 
makes  them  call  wrong  right,  and  right  wrong;  love 
cruelty,  and  cruelty  love. 

Some  say  that  the  axe  is  laid  to  the  root  of  it  just  now, 
and  that  it  is  already  tottering  to  its  fall ;  while  others 
say  that  it  is  growing  stronger  than  ever,  and  ready  to 
spread  its  upas-shade  over  the  whole  earth.  For  my 
part,  I  know  not,  save  that  all  shall  be  as  God  wills. 
The  tree  has  been  cut  down  already,  again  and  again,  and 
yet  has  always  thrown  out  fresh  shoots,  and  dropped 
fresh  poison  from  its  boughs.  But  this  at  least  I  know, 
that  any  little  child  who  will  use  the  faculties  which  God 
has  given  him,  may  find  an  antidote  to  all  its  poison  in  the 
meanest  herb  beneath  his  feet. 

There — you  do  not  understand  me,  my  boys  and  girl* : 


USE    O»    THE    EYES.  811 

and  the  best  prayer  I  can  offer  for  you  is,  perhaps,  that 
yon  should  never  need  to  understand  me :  but  if  that  sore 
need  should  come,  and  that  poison  should  begin  to  spread 
its  mist  over  your  brains  and  hearts,  then  you  will  be 
proof  against  it,  just  in  proportion  as  you  have  used  the 
eyes,  and  the  .common  sense  which  God  has  given  you, 
and  have  considered  the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  IAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


RENEWED  BOOKS  ARE  SUBJECT  TO  IMMEDIATE 
RECALL 


).UE  APR  2    197° 


2  7  REC'O 
LIBRAR/ 
^E  KOV  i  5  1977 
NOV28  1977  PE 

U  c  0  LIBRARY. 

DUE         <     1980 


JAN  ,-  7  1980  m 

•  :     •     •      LI  C  I 


OF  CALIFORNIA 

BookSlip-25m-6,'66(G38p 


N^  494037 

Holder,   C.F. 

Half  hours  in  the 
tiny  world. 


QL467 
H57 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


3 1175  00156  0468 


